Cupid's Chokehold
by GraveyardIntern
Summary: ..why Gil felt like a needle was poking at his chest or why he felt like he had plunged into hell when he saw Catherine at the restaurant. It was because Cupid had fired his smoking gun blindly, in the wrong direction.
1. Prologue

**Prologue:** **Relinquish**

He needed to give up. He had to give up ever wanting to not be lonely, to hold his dignity, and to go back to being the man he used to recognize in the mirror. Gil Grissom, who had been the steady column for the lives of everyone around him, now crumbled underneath his own burdens. He needed to give up just to be able to breathe.

The loneliness to which he came home every night used to register painfully and pin itself to his mind with by way of a sharp dart. He used to realize that there was no one who looked forward to his coming home from long hours of work, as he turned the key in its lock. Now, he kept the TV on with the sound on mute, as he read the lips of everyone on the screen, and he sipped from his glass of wine. He had spent another almost-full day at the lab, and it wasn't because he had leftover paperwork, ongoing cases or because he needed the money. He had finished the overdue paperwork months ago, and Vegas was awfully quiet in terms of crime. He had never needed extra money; he was set for life. He was working because he had nothing else; no friends to meet, no dinners to attend, no one to come home to. The lab became his place of residence and at times, he never left the lab for days at an end. But of course, no one knew.

He looked around his abandoned abode, which was cluttered with books, cups, used plates and cutlery and he remembered the meticulous state the house used to be in. He looked at the bug specimens on his walls, and even they did not fascinate him anymore. He lost all interest in almost everything he did, especially when he was drinking, and the things that used to keep him going vanished without a trace. Every little thing he did seemed fruitless, and pointless; no one cared about what he did, where he was, and he knew, at that point, that if he was to be in an accident, no one would know. The pictures on the walls were his most prized possessions now, because his memory was fading. Every picture became animated in his mind and he could see everything in the picture clearly. He was surrounded by pictures of what was, and what could have been. The question of "what if" haunted him every step of every day, and he cursed the concept and the man who first uttered the two fateful words. Gil Grissom felt forsaken.

He was dizzy from the bottle of wine he had consumed, and he slowly felt his control slip from the crown of his head out through his arms and down to the tip of his toes. He shuddered and slumped, his expression becoming blank. There was now no restrain for any emotion that dared to come forth, and the first one was regret. Then followed guilt, longing, and absolute pain. His eye muscles softened and he could feel his tears struggling to form. During all this time, he hadn't cried; he had managed to keep that much of his dignity. However, as he started to tell himself that he needed to relinquish all those things, a tear rolled out of his eyes. It rolled its way down his sunken face, and condensed in his gray beard. He didn't even bother to wipe the tears that followed the first, and soon the teardrops were dripping from his chin after covering his face. But his body did not expand and contract with sobs, as he merely sat there, staring at a picture taken years ago, of himself next to a woman whom he wished he couldn't recognize. He threw his empty wineglass at it, shattering both the picture frame and the wineglass.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**** Departure**

"You have to go to Seattle."

His pen froze in its place on the half-signed paper. Gil took off his glasses and looked at the sheriff with fear-stricken eyes which the sheriff had never seen in him before.

"What?" Gil spit out.

"I want you on this case. You know our missing person case is quickly becoming a high-profile. I can't trust anyone else."

"But why not Warrick or Nick?"

"This is one of the mayor's closest friends, Grissom." Politics. Again.

"What does that have to do with anything? Warrick is much more political than I am. I'm sure he could handle it better than I could. Nick is a charmer, you know that." Gil pleaded, and the sheriff almost seemed moved. To the sheriff Grissom seemed to be on the verge of breaking down.

"Grissom, I need you on this." He said, hesitantly.

"But…"

"Please Grissom. Don't argue with me on this one." The sheriff briskly walked away, leaving a troubled Gil in his wake. The door was now closed and Gil was massaging his temples. Barely two minutes had passed before the phone rang.

"Grissom."

"It's me. Just called Seattle PD. You'll be working with a detective named McMullen. I suggest you give them a call. Let them know when you're coming."

"Thank you sheriff." Gil sighed as he dropped the phone back to its place. He looked up at the ceiling and he cursed. "God damn it!" He grabbed the nearest book and threw it at the door, and he didn't even notice the fact that some of the pages were now ripped. Soon, a concerned Sara Sidle entered.

"Everything okay?" Sara asked as she squeezed through the door, closing it after her. She looked at the trashed book, and picked it up hesitantly. He wanted to tell her no, that his life was all going to the dumpsters, but he couldn't. He didn't need her curiosity, not now.

"Yeah. Just a little troubled, that's all."

"You threw a book at the wall. Come on, Grissom. Talk to me." She plopped down on the seat in front of him.

"I'm going to be in Seattle." He confessed. He thought he might as well tell her what was going on, but perhaps not to the full extent. Seattle. He still couldn't believe it.

"Seattle? For Georgia Simmons?" Sara asked, her expression one of perplexity.

"The sheriff won't have anyone else go." He replied, as he let out a sigh of defeat.

"Seattle? So what…." Sara uttered her words, but her face turned paler than it normally was, and for a moment Gil was afraid she might faint. "It's Catherine, isn't it."

"I don't like the possibility of meeting ghosts, that's all." He told her, straightening up in his chair.

"Are you working with her?" Sara asked, her tone rigid.

"No. Detective named McMullen." As soon as he told her the name, she seemed relieved, and Gil didn't like it.

"You expect to be able to avoid her in her own lab, Gil?" She asked, looking at him as if he had just uttered something entirely ridiculous. He sighed. He needed to be ridiculous right now, to save that glimpse of hope.

"Don't worry. I'll be back as soon as it's done."

"I know it." Sara told him, and they made eye contact. "Call me."

Gil smiled, and she left the room. The relationship was breaking in, but rather slowly, since it had been jeopardized by his spending so much time at the lab, but Sara was as much of a workaholic as he was, and they spent time nonetheless. He was glad he hadn't given her a set of keys to his house.

-------------------------------

Greg frowned in confusion as he received the set of keys thrown at him.

"Take care of things while I'm gone." Grissom commanded as he made final preparations for departure in his office, and Greg gulped.

"Me? You trust me with your house and office keys?" Greg asked, still not able to believe what was happening. "Why not…"

"Because I know you'll do the job; no more, no less. It's all listed on my desk and…keep this between us?" With that and a half-hearted thumbs-up, Gil Grissom stepped out of the lab, leaving Greg to gape at a swinging door.

---------------------------------

"Coffee or tea?"

Gil looked up at the smiling flight attendant, struggling to hold a tray full of cups steady.

"Coffee thanks." He carefully received the hot cup of coffee and placed it on his tray. He was grateful that the lab could afford to put him in the Prestige class and that the seat next to him was empty. He was too engaged in his own thoughts to enjoy the scenery of Western America, pass by his window.

He didn't know why he was making such a big deal out of it all. He wasn't going to work with her; she went to Seattle because she was offered the job of Assistant Director of the lab, possibly director now. However, the thought of coming across her in the foreign hallways of the Seattle Police Department, and seeing the unbelieving look on her face that he could picture clearly, scared him to no end. Then the consequences of not calling her before he came…just may surpass the encounter itself. He didn't have anything prepared to tell her when she would question him. It wasn't something he ever wanted to experience.


	3. Chapter 2 :: Ghost of a Presence

**Chapter 2:** **Ghost of a Presence**

The cab drove off with a smoky roar, when Gil was dropped off at the entrance of the Sheraton. He sighed as he walked in, dragging his small suitcase.

He walked through the automatic doors and was overwhelmed by the breeze coming from the air conditioner that seemed to be everywhere. He hoped he had packed something with long sleeves. His steps echoed in the main floor, as the area around the reception desk was deserted. He could only hear the occasional rings from the elevators, and the sound of the receptionist expertly typing in what was probably another check-out.

"I have a reservation." He muttered, instantly feeling eyes on him.

"Your name, please?"

"Gil Grissom. G-R-I-S-S-O-M."

"Just one moment." The receptionist muttered as she focused on the electronic screen before her, her hands moving at the speed of light. For Gil, typing was not the best way to look up information or to communicate; he preferred words and books to abbreviations and cyber web pages. "Here you are. Just let me get your key." Gil watched her disappear behind a swinging door, and he took the chance to look around the Sheraton and try to figure out why it was so sought after. He wondered how the lab could afford to put him in a place like this, and he took it as more pressure on him to resolve the case quickly, before it got out any further. "Room 920, sir." He was handed a key and he smiled.

He dragged his luggage to the elevator and pressed the ninth floor. He realized he worked too much when he could almost see all the fingerprints, one on top of another, some smeared, some intact. He almost had to fight the urge to grab a print lifter. He shook his head and tried to see the world as it was, not what it could be and not what it sometimes was in unfortunate circumstances. He walked off the elevator without much thought to it when the doors opened and found his room without trouble. He expertly slid the key in and out, and opened the door.

The smell of freshly changed covers met him and he was surprised by the lack of the usual smell of iron in the air. He placed the bags in the closet and headed towards the balcony to draw the curtains back. Seattle was not like Vegas at all; urban but not bustling, bright but not artificial. Skyscrapers blocked only part of his view as he could catch a glimpse of something vast and blue and he guessed it was the ocean far away. He looked at his watch and seeing how there was still some daylight left, which didn't really matter to him anyways since he lived during the night, he decided to take a stroll through downtown, familiarize himself with the environment and observe the daily behaviours of the regular Seattler. The thought of calling Sara briefly crossed his mind, but he waved it away with his hand, as if he was swatting away an unwanted mosquito, buzzing in his ear.

The air was crisp and the sky was gray, filled with clouds that stretched beyond Gil's sight. He drew his jacket tighter as he walked away from his hotel. He could tell that the cars were mostly of the middle-class: Toyotas, Hondas and the occasional BMWs, Mercedes and Audis. There were no old Volkswagen vans or a '63 Mustang which was an air hazard in itself. He walked by a café full of homeward bound businessmen and women just seeking some donuts and a quick cup of coffee. He knew people spoke of the good coffee in Seattle and he couldn't resist his curiosity.

About 10 minutes of standing in line and $2.40 later, Gil was contently sipping his coffee which actually tasted like coffee, and walking again, towards a park that gave the city a sense of relief from the modern world and a hint of green amongst black, white and glass. It was nearer to the Space Needle, which just seemed too bright for his eyes. He decided to head towards the park and squeeze in a short break before heading back to the hotel.

As he walked towards the park, he saw the best and the worst-faring of the Seattlers. He caught a glimpse of two people in the back alleys of a bank building, exchanging something which he could easily predict what it was and he shook his head. He then saw a man roll his automatic car windows down and shout to the car in front of him to drive faster, and told the driver that his grandmother possessed better driving skills. From Vegas to Seattle, America was a nation battling against instinct and time.

As he neared the park, his mind started to settle down a little bit as the green, lush, artificial bushes and trees relaxed him. He saw others, much like himself pass him by, and he observed the way everyone walked. A Seattler's walk was full of purpose and haste, and Gil wondered if everyone who lived in Seattle had a purpose in life, and that purpose was to get somewhere at a certain time and if not, their world would come down on them. Their walk was done with great precision, the next step not differing a bit from the previous and they took long strides, covering more distance with one stretch of the legs. Gil guessed that the residents of Seattle tended to mind their own business. As the Seattlers walked, they always kept their head up and always watched where they were going. Perhaps this is what made them so meticulous about so many things.

He also observed that Seattle was a city of romantics. He saw countless couples walking by, holding hands or holding each other as they looked at the trees, which were now slightly turning yellow, and giggled about something only they would find funny and entertaining. He didn't devote much of his attention until he saw a man similar in stature to himself. The man was with graying hair, and was sporting a dark blue jacket and black slacks. He was carrying some books or files in one hand, and a cup of coffee in the other. This man was not much different from himself; the only difference was the presence of a blonde woman. She was walking along side him and he was listening with great attentiveness to what she had to say. She was gesticulating with her hands and she seemed to speak confidently. It was almost as if she knew he was fully devoted to her and her only, and for them, the world was the space between their eyes and bodies and their current topic of discussion. Gil didn't get a good look at neither the woman nor the man's faces but he knew they reminded him of something he wished he could forget. Gil wondered what the man had done differently to have that presence in his life, and wondered what sort of irretrievable mistake he, Gil Grissom who was always right, made to lose that overpowering presence which he had come to treasure.


	4. Chapter 3 :: Beginning

**Chapter 3 :**** Beginning**

Gil thought he could have recognized the building without the address. He slowly turned his rented Taurus into a parking space right near the entrance. He slowly emerged from the car and drew a deep breath as he took a look at his temporary place of work.

The Seattle Metropolitan Police Department was similar to that of the one back in Vegas and Gil felt strangely at home. As he walked in, he almost expected Greg to jump out at him and rant about the newest findings on the case and his personal opinions as to the outcome. The blond, petite receptionist sitting behind the huge counter directly in front of Gil smiled at him as he nervously walked down the hall.

"How may I help you?"

"I'm Gil Grissom from…"

"Oh you must be the one from Vegas, right?" He was uncomfortable at the fact that she knew him. He guessed that the whole lab was informed about his visit.

"Yes." He smiled as the receptionist grinned and he almost expected her to scream in joy at seeing him. "Is Det. McMullen in?"

"Yep. I'll page the detective now, please have a seat. Would you like some water or anything?" She asked, genuinely concerned. Gil politely shook his head and stood gingerly around the area and waited for someone like Brass to walk around the corner.

"Mr. Grissom?"

He turned around towards the feminine voice that called him and saw a woman in her early thirties, dressed casually in black slacks, white blouse and a navy blazer. She had dirty blonde hair and reminded him too much of Sofia.

"Detective?" Gil asked, tilting his head.

"Jennifer McMullen. Honor to meet you, doctor." She held out her hand and he nervously took it and gave it a firm shake. Her voice was almost husky, but it had a very feminine asset to it. He flashed a smile and for a moment he forgot about his ghosts. "So where are you settled?"

"At the Sheraton."

"Ooh, fancy. Department paying for it?" She asked, as she crossed her arms and raising an eyebrow.

"Well, they want the case done quickly and quietly." He told her and she chuckled.

"The director told me about your reputation. Quite the man I hear." She added and Gil's heart skipped a beat.

"The director?"

"Yes, you haven't met him yet?" She asked, and Gil smiled in relief.

"No but I'll do that shortly. For now, I'd like to get started on the case." He replied slowly, fixing his glasses.

"To the morgue then."

The coroner was not like Dr. Robbins; not at all. He was in his late twenties, looking like he was fresh out of university. Gil doubted his credibility at first sight but as he heard Matthew Hawthorne report his findings, Gil was once again reminded that assumptions were not the best way to judge a person's character. He spoke with great intelligence and a crispness that his hair paralleled. He did not stutter for a second and Gil smiled to himself.

"TOD seems to be around a week ago, but of course we can't be certain as you both know after it's been this long. The body was covered in a thin layer of ice with frost when the guys found her. COD was positioned asphyxia," Matthew added, "found trace elements in her mouth and nose, sent her stomach contents to the trace lab, blood to tox for screen."

Gil tilted his head, trying to take in the abundance of information in a relatively short period of time.

"Anything else?" Gil asked, and Matthew smiled.

"Just that the blood was pooled towards her back but she was found face down. Body dump, I guess and…one of her fingers is missing."

"Cut?" Gil asked, frowning.

"Well it doesn't look like it. I'm guessing it might have broken off during the transportation, but I can't be certain as to why and how it broke off or where it is for that matter."

"Well…thank you."

"Pleasure, Dr. Grissom." He turned to Jennifer, gave her a wink and she giggled. As Gil and Jennifer headed out, a male voice called out to them.

"Detective McMullen!"

Jennifer's giggle was cut short by her smile.

"Good morning, sir." She said, turning around with a brilliant smile. The man was in his mid-fifties, sporting a clean shaven face and graying hair. He was just slightly taller than Gil with a fit, toned physique. He was wearing a black suit with a navy blue dress shirt.

"You must be Dr. Gil Grissom." He said, and Gil took the offered hand. "Ian Gates. I'm the director here at Seattle PD."

"Pleasure." Gil replied as he showed off his professional smile.

"Is Jennifer treating you well?" Gates asked. Gil observed Gates's slight Scottish accent and his deep tenor voice along with an immediate sense of charisma. Gil pulled his hands out of his pockets.

"She is, without a doubt." Gil replied as he nodded.

"I should hope so. You're a respected man, and should be treated as such, right Jen?" Gates turned to Jennifer and she nodded as she saluted him. "This is an important case, no?"

"We'll do our best." Gil promised. He wondered if it was just Vegas that had the off-beat directors and every other lab had someone like Gates.

"I know it, too. Well, I have a meeting to get to if you both will excuse me. I will see you soon." Gates announced as he nodded to them. He strode down the hall and Jen let out a sigh as soon as he was out of sight.

"He is so Sean Connery, don't you think?" She exclaimed as she led the way, and Gil hated to admit that she was right on.


	5. Chapter 4 :: Apparition

**Chapter 4:**** Apparition**

The detective was a hard worker and Gil admired her spirit. She was great company, making small talk and putting him at ease as she pulled out her jokes but the easy-going side of her vanished as they arrived at the lab. They caught up with Tox, Trace, and DNA. The famous bella was clean and the trace was not back yet. By the time they got outside, the sky was about to turn into black night.

"Well, we should really get something to eat." Jennifer suggested as she gave her stomach a tap and Gil had the right mind to agree. "Fancy or quick?"

"How about fancy? My treat." He offered and she laughed.

"Department cover meals, too?"

"Yep." He laughed, for what seemed like the first time in a long time.

"All right but you'll regret you ever asked."

---------------------------------------------------------

As Gil opened the door for Jennifer to go through, he was met by a gust of warm air.

The restaurant was lit by a faint orange glow. It was halfway between dark and light, just to the point where your eyes strained to see everything. There was a separate bar, but they agreed not to drink, and they headed for the tables upstairs. It was not too crowded, and Gil was glad that he didn't have to wait. They were led to a table and they both sat down with a sigh.

The waiter carried over their menus and the Scrooge in Gil screamed but Gil managed to keep it to himself as he listened to Jennifer talk about nothing much in particular. He looked over the menu carefully and chose a New York Sirloin Steak with salad and Jennifer went with clam chowder and a small dish of pasta.

The two talked in a wide range; the case, their families and what Vegas was like. She had never been and Gil took on the job of trying to squeeze the labyrinth of a city that was Las Vegas into a nutshell. She was fascinated by his stories and they laughed many times throughout the dinner. As Gil was about to call for the check, Jennifer called out as a grin spread across her face.

"Hey, it's Mr. Gates and the AD."

Gil's heart sank and felt like it was all of a sudden put on ice. He felt sweat break out on his forehead and he suddenly shivered. For a while he didn't breathe and all he could do was stare at his empty plate. All sound faded from around him, and he could only hear the absence of his heartbeat. He slowly turned to look in the direction Jennifer was looking and found the handsome director talking intimately with a woman with shoulder-length strawberry blond hair, beautiful shoulders and a laughter that resonated and barely registered within his mind. Even though all he could see was the back of her, he knew.

"Let's go and say hello, Grissom."

"Um…I'd..I'd love to, but I'm rather tired."

"Come on, it won't take a moment. I mean, you have to meet the AD some time, right?" She asked as she got up and Gil realized how foolish he had been to try and avoid her in her own lab and how foolish he had been to think that Sara could be wrong. As Gil got up, Jen faltered. "Maybe we should…do it next time."

Gil looked towards the couple and saw them kissing. They broke off soon enough but the damage was done.

"Yeah…let's do it later." Gil managed to speak, as he sat back down. He called for the check impatiently, wanting to get out as soon as he could.

"You know Grissom. Thanks for dinner tonight." Jennifer whispered and Gil smiled. She didn't know what an effect the apparition had done to him.

"It's really nothing. I can say I ate it all to the department." He replied, winking and she smiled. Their check came and Gil fished in his pockets for his wallet and pulled out his credit card and looked for change, but Jen stopped him.

"At least let me pay for the tip." She told him as she flashed him her best smile and he quietly nodded. She put the change on the table and stood up. He couldn't help himself as he looked towards the couple one last time, but he was met with a pair of azure eyes he knew all too well. Time stopped and he drew in a breath. She was standing up, waiting for Gates to pick up his jacket, but Gil didn't notice anything that was going around him as he did not break their eye contact. He felt his lungs deflate, gasping for oxygen.

"Mr. Grissom!" The director broke rudely into Gil's reverie, ending his eye contact. He heard Jennifer clear her throat and Gil put on his best professional smile that he reserved for the press, as if nothing had happened. Gil and Jennifer walked towards the couple.

"Mr. Gates, we meet again." Gil replied, looking at the director.

"Indeed, a pleasure. Wait. This," Gates replied, gesturing affectionately, "is Catherine Willows, our assistant director. Wait a second…you two must know each other." Gates frowned and Gil could feel Jen's eyes bore into the back of his head. He gulped as he looked at Catherine who had never taken her eyes off of him.

"We do." Gil replied, turning slightly towards Catherine. "Great to see you again…Catherine." It hurt him beyond belief to even utter her name but he made sure he didn't show it.

"Same here…Gil." Her voice rang in his ear and until then he didn't realize how much he had missed her. He stood there, his mouth slightly ajar as he struggled to take the situation in. He knew he was staring at her, in disbelief, in shock, and in hatred.

"Well, Jennifer. I think we should leave these two for a minute. Join me as I pay for the check." The director politely excused himself and took Jennifer with him.

"How long have you been here, Gil?"

"Two days."

"Why didn't you call?"

"I didn't think I'd have to."

"Did you see us here?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you…?"

"Because I knew better." He replied bitterly and Catherine did not miss it. During their conversation, he refused to look at her.

"Where are you staying?" She asked, quietly.

"At the Sheraton." He replied and put his hands in his pockets. "I'm not here on personal matters, just on a case."

"I know. I know you better than that to think you'd come to see me." She replied and Gil looked at her. She was looking at her toes and Gil clenched his teeth to keep himself back from confessing to her how much he hated himself right now.

The director was striding back to them and Gil smiled at Catherine who also raised her eyebrows and smiled right back.

"Great to see you, Gil."

"Pleasure to see you too, Catherine."


	6. Chapter 5 :: Defense

** Chapter 5 :: Defense **

He had never expected her to be single after all this time, but he knew somewhere in his heart he wished it. What man in his right mind would leave her alone? Someone like him, he added to himself as he listened to Jennifer talk in the background as they headed back to his hotel. Gil knew she had dated other men even when she was in Vegas but this was different.

Ian Gates did not fit the type of men Catherine used to date, who were just after the possibility of getting some from the beautiful woman. Gates was a gentleman, and Gil had been intimidated by him from the beginning. He was a man of a respected position and he was leading a fabulous career. He had stability and he seemed to be confident in himself, just enough to have that open-ness, which is what Gil lacked, he thought to himself.

As Jennifer was driving, she had never stopped praising the director. He had been the best investigator Seattle PD had ever known and she told Gil that Gates was very similar to Gil himself. Catherine had been dating him for a long time now and the talk of the department was that they were going to get engaged. Gil's heart ached as Jennifer was telling him the background information on Gates and Catherine no matter how much he tried to filter it out. Gil was dropped off with a thank you and he was left to himself.

He was sitting on his bed, staring at the black screen of the TV as he thought back to Catherine. Shouldn't he, as her best friend, be ecstatic for her that she had finally met a man she deserved? But Gil felt nothing to the effect, but rather wanted Catherine to be unhappy with Gates, wanted Gates to be harsh to her and not give her the treatment she deserved. He wondered if there was a friend as bad as he, and he also wondered whether it was the hopeless man inside him who wanted these things upon her, and who couldn't stop himself from sighing as he thought about her again and about the shock that lingered with him from her abrupt departure. He fingered the case file next to him. He opened it, hoping for a distraction. He looked at the clock which read 11:30pm and sighed again. He had told Jennifer that he would be at the PD by 10am. He needed to be up by 8 to have breakfast, and get ready. However, Gil did not want to go to sleep, afraid he may dream about something he shouldn't and not be able to wake up from it.

The distraction had no effect on him, as he thought back to Catherine. She had looked stunning as she smiled for Gates and his dumb jokes, and unconsciously Gil clenched his teeth. He closed his eyes and he could see her vividly; her red dress with spaghetti straps that Gil knew he could effortlessly slip off, and wearing black heels that Gil had given to her for one of her birthdays over their 20 years of friendship. He could still see her most prized silver bracelet gracing her beautiful wrist. When he opened his eyes he could see his pathetic self reflecting off the TV screen, looking just the way Bill Murray had appeared in his recent movie that Gil proudly hadn't thought much of. Where was that pride now, he wondered as his whole form slumped under the weight of guilt and desire.

"_What is this?"__ A white envelope._

"_It's…my notice. I know it's not weeks in advance…"__ Catherine stuttering. Not good._

"_Wait…you're really taking that offer in Seattle?" Gil sat up, taking his glasses off and frowning in disbelief.__ "I thought you were just joking."_

"_I thought I was too, but__…I'm sorry to leave like this."_

"…_Is this a joke, Catherine?__"_

"_I've made up my mind." Catherine replied, fidgeting with her hands. Gil stood up, walked over to her and gently took her hands. _

"_You can't leave…not like this.__ Tell me this is just a joke.__"_

"_It's not a joke Gil. I…I'm scheduled to fly out today__." She replied, her voice shaky._

"_Today?! What the hell, Catherine! I'm still your supervisor!"_

"_I know…and…"_

"_Please do NOT tell me I am the last one to know about this." He told her, surprised at how angry he was becoming, so fast._

"…_I'm sorry."_

"_Am I being punished? Did you up the ante? Is it because I don't talk to you?"_

"_No, Gil…"_

"_Because I can change Catherine. I'm capable of change, you know."_

"_Gil…"_

"_Just…give me a chance."_

"_To do what Gil?"_

"_To…"__ No answer. No words for what he was capable of. What he would do for her if she would just stay._

"_I…Don't try to stop me now." Catherine told him, looking into his eyes. "This is for me and Lindsey…" Gil stopped her by taking her into his arms and fearfully holding her onto him. _

"_Catherine…please..give this more thought? Just…don't leave right now. Let'__s discuss this.__" He begged, his voice shaking. He couldn't understand why, and she started to cry and she clung to him for the last time. _

"_Bye Gil."__ He never fully understood. It was too sudden, even for Gil._

_And she ran out of his life__, leaving Gil wanting to believe it was all a nightmare. _

"Grissom!"

Gil looked up to find Jennifer jogging towards him. He stood up from the bench in the now-familiar waiting area. She handed him a cup of coffee.

"Thanks, Jen." He told her as he took a sip. He was surprised by the authenticity of the coffee scent and flavour and wished he could take a bag back to Vegas.

"Let's go to Trace. They have something." She told him, excitedly. They walked in unison out of the PD and headed to the Forensics Lab a block away. The afternoon was cool, and the autumn leaves were falling, going unnoticed by the people that were out for walks with their beloved dogs and significant others.

When they arrived at the lab, they headed to Trace first and was bombarded with information. The fiber in the victim's mouth was from a towel which had traces of a prescribed drug. Jen called the PD to do a quick check. They found DNA still struggling to get anything out of the evidence and the Prints Lab was still working on overload from other cases.

Gil didn't notice as Jen's pager went off, because he was in deep thought, wondering as to what to make of the information.

"Hey, Gil? It's the AD. She wants to see us in her office." Gil's head shot towards Jen.

"The AD? Why?" He asked, impatiently. Jen frowned.

"Um...I don't know. We'll see."

The office was crisp with the high-end furniture with mahogany wood which gave the office the executive feel it needed. The office was unfamiliar and Gil felt awkward as he strolled in.

Catherine was sitting back in her leather chair and when the door opened, she sat up.

"Gil, Jen. Sit down, please." Her voice was unusually cold, and Gil wondered if he had just forgotten what her voice used to sound like to him in Vegas, or wondered if it was Seattle getting to her. "The director wants to be updated and he's in a meeting, so I'm kind of the middleman here." She looked at Jen and only fleetingly glanced at Gil. "What's new?"

Jen looked at Gil with raised eyebrows and Gil sighed.

"The fiber in vic's mouth was doused with a prescription drug. PD's working on it now. Prints and DNA are still in progress." Gil reported, monotonously, as professional as he could sound. He gave her an emotionless gaze. She shifted.

"Well that's good. What did Matthew say?" Catherine linked her fingers as she nodded, looking directly at Gil, challenging him on.

"Um…oh. TOD was a week ago. COD was positional asphyxia, lividity fixed. Blood pool on her back but was found face down. Finger missing, probably frozen and dumped." He reported quickly, not wanting to lose a beat and Jen frowned at Gil's beginning stutter. Catherine nodded and Gil could almost feel her victory in the air. He clenched his teeth.

"Okay then. Let me know if there's anything else."

"Of course." Jen replied as she stood up. Gil was late in standing up and he seemed troubled to Jen.

"Oh Jen. Can I talk with Dr. Grissom alone for a minute?" Catherine asked as she took off her glasses. She hadn't changed a bit, Gil thought as he looked at her.

"Sure. I'll be outside." Jen gave Gil one last look before she closed the door. Gil sat down again.

"I talked to the sheriff. He wants this done fast, and I mean record time. What is it with Vegas and its sheriffs." She told him and he sighed. "Ian and I both want it done, but…we're not pressuring you to make miracles, here."

"I know...I'll do my best. I…I'll leave as soon as it's over. I understand your positions." Gil shifted. He felt knots in his chest, and they were twisting again and again.

"Gil…" Her voice softened and his eyes shot to hers, and he was afraid of the emotion that his eyes may give away. "How did we come to this? To the point where we can't even be in the same room?"

"I…" Gil couldn't say anything, because even he didn't know why he was doing this to himself and Catherine. "It's all my fault. I apologize for…for not returning your calls, your emails, and…I was just really busy and…"

"You don't have to defend yourself to me Gil." She told him, as she stood up, straightening her jacket and pants. He looked at her as he too stood up. They stood knowing what should be done but unsure as to how to do it. Gil clenched his teeth as he told himself he needed to leave and he painfully turned around to head out the door.


	7. Chapter 6 :: September

**Chapter 6:**** September**

One day you turn around it is summer and then before you know it, it's autumn and the autumn leaves turn to snow as it all falls down. Gil remembered and found himself sighing again as he realized he was nearing the September of his years. On the same park bench he had sat before, he was smiling gently as he watched kids play on the merry-go-round, young couples walking arm-in-arm again, and jazz musicians playing just for the soul of the music. He realized that these sights were almost foreign to him, and that he hadn't paid attention to the little details of life that made all the difference. He had never stopped to watch the kids play on the playground, to listen to the raindrops that fell rarely where he lived, to watch the sunset in the city. He had let a friendship die because he didn't have the guts to call up and simply say 'hi'. Now he realized that life was short and he was dancing too fast to the music that wouldn't last forever.

He knew he couldn't turn back time as he regretted all that he had ever done; his childhood, his background, his degrees, his reputation. None of them mattered to him anymore as he painfully came to terms with the fact that he could not blame his current state on anyone else, and wondered if things would have been different if he had just uttered different words instead of the Shakespearean quotes and the haikus that all seemed fruitless now.

Gil's hands trembled as he fingered the pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket. He had smoked a bit in college, and he hadn't particularly been an avid smoker back then either. He couldn't believe himself as he deftly pulled one out and lit it. He sighed as the familiar fumes permeated his lungs. He watched the smoke drift away in the autumn Seattle wind. He was still buzzing from his rummage through the minibar in his hotel room. For the first time in a long time, he thought of what he had done with his own life. Here he was, smoking and drinking, wondering what it was all about.

He was the fool now, as he ached for a proper conversation with Catherine. Most of the time, it had been _he_ who shut her out and _he _who refused the communication. The crisp air had dried his skin, and Gil was surprised when the ghost of a tear burned its way down his cheek.

"Catherine? Earth to Catherine?"

Ian waved his hands in front of Catherine, who was sitting at her desk staring out the window. He knew he surprised her when she yelped as her chair spun around and found her listening to music.

"Ian! What are you doing here?"

"Wanted to see what you were doing." He smiled at her as he revelled in the warm sensation which just the sight of Catherine produced. She smiled right back as she stood up. They shared a tight embrace and Catherine gave Ian a peck on his lips.

"That's it?" He asked, as he raised an eyebrow and slightly pouted his lower lip. He saw Catherine briefly falter at his expression and he saw her eyes glaze over with something like a bad memory. She quickly smiled as she turned back to sit in her chair.

"So what did Jen and Grissom tell you?"

"TOD, possible COD and the fact that our lab is yet again backlogged." She was looking out the window again.

"Hm. All right. Their sheriff keeps calling me. Apparently he can't reach Grissom." Ian told her, frowning, and was surprised when Catherine smiled and shook her head. "Page me if…"

"If there's anything, I know." Catherine replied as she flashed him another fleeting smile. Ian sighed as he closed the door on his way out. He walked out of the building and he buttoned up his jacket as the bitter air floated right through him. Ian was hit with a coughing fit which went almost to the point of being violent as he drew the attention of passers-by. He shook his head as he headed to his Mercedes to head home, a supposed daily routine that seemed almost a luxury to him.

"I'm afraid you'll need a court warrant. I know my rights."

The door was shut in Gil's face and he flinched. He looked at Jen who was huffing as she rolled her eyes. He followed her back to the patrol car, reluctantly.

"Can you believe this? The damn only suspect slamming the door on us?"

"I've had worse." Gil replied, and felt his phone vibrate. "Hello?"

"Grissom. Gates, here."

"Hello, Mr. Gates." Gil replied, clearing his throat.

"Did the suspect…"

"No, he didn't let us in."

"Well we'll see about that. Cath's at the lab right now, meeting with DNA. Just came in."

"Oh."

"I suggest you two meet up with her. I might be able to crack a warrant with a judge."

'"Thank you director." Gil replied as he almost wished Gates was somehow not as nice as he was.

"Please. Call me Ian." Gil was cut off by a dial tone, and he stared at the phone as he closed it.

"What did Ian say?"

"Meet up with Cath…erine, at the lab. She's with DNA." Gil did not allow himself anytime to think as they drove to the lab. He couldn't let himself familiarize with the past.

"Semen on the shirt, matches your suspect." Catherine told Gil and Jen as they met her. "I assume you'll want the warrant."

"Oh will you excuse me for a second?" Jen briskly walked out of the room, looking at her beeper.

"You know Gil, that really was record time." Catherine told him and Gil briefly froze up at the mention of his first name from her lips. "Good work."

"We've still got some ways to go." He replied, still reeling from the contact.

"You never say when you're done, do you."

"Well technically I'm not done until…"

"…the perp's behind bars, I know." Gil looked at her as she finished yet another one of his sentences and smiled to himself. He watched her ruffle her hair and saw a ring on her hand.

"When were you going to tell me you were engaged?" Gil asked, almost in a whisper and Catherine's eyes shot to his. He stared at her with an expressionless gaze and he hoped to shake her.

"I…I didn't think you'd want to know. Seeing as how you've done that the minute I walked out of your lab." She replied, bitterly. "What difference does it make if I'm married or engaged?"

"Catherine…I…"

"Sorry, guys. Got the warrant, Gil." Jen appeared out of the blue and held the warrant up triumphantly. "Want to tag along, Catherine?"

"You guys wouldn't mind, would you?" Catherine asked, smiling at Jen. The two ladies walked right past Gil.

"Come on, Grissom!" Jen called to him and he jogged to keep up.

Jen brought the A/C down a notch as the three started to drive out of the parking lot. Catherine had taken the backseat willingly and Gil was staring out the window, looking at the slightly familiar Seattle scene when he felt Catherine's hand slide onto his shoulder.

"So Jen, how much farther?" Catherine asked, and Gil knew she was taken aback as she met his almost fearful gaze. She pulled her hand away. Gil saw her falter slightly.

"Not much. He lives downtown." Jen hadn't seen the exchange between the two of them as she focused on the road ahead of her. Catherine sat back in her seat and Gil knew she felt the tension too. Gil cleared his throat as he turned his attention away from his tingling shoulder to the high-rises now passing by.


	8. Chapter 7 :: The Fatal Shot

**Chapter ****7****The Fatal Shot**

The suspect, Matt Caine, did not look pleased as Jen handed him the warrant. He made a show of looking through the whole thing as if the thing could be fabricated. When he reluctantly opened his door, the three pushed through. Jen led the way with Catherine and Gil trailing behind.

The apartment smelled of old carpet and fabric. There were two bedrooms; one being used as a study and the other, a regular bedroom with a queen size bed and a night stand. As Gil and Catherine searched the bedroom, Jen was clearing the other rooms. Gil reluctantly enjoyed the proximity between himself and Catherine in the cramped apartment, which reminded him of the days in Vegas. He observed that she now wore perfume, a luxury to her when she was a CSI.

They came out of the bedroom with a handful of evidence and Gil frowned as he shot Caine a warning stare. Gil was going to talk to Jen when he heard Catherine yelp and saw Caine holding a knife to her neck.

"Leave it all here and I walk or she dies."

Gil saw Caine's hand tremble. Jen's gun was drawn and Gil immediately drew his gun and aimed unusually steadily at Caine's head.

"Drop them…now!" Caine started to move the knife slightly along Catherine's neck, causing her to draw in a sharp breath and Gil saw a drop of blood trickle down.

"Another inch and you'll have a bullet in your head." Gil threatened, surprising everyone in the room, including himself.

"You don't have the guts to blow my head when I've got your woman." Although it wasn't exactly correct, Gil gulped. "Drop the guns, or it's her neck."

"You want to face trial with two bodies or one."

"Gil…" Catherine muttered.

"Shut up!" His knife pushed her back.

"Don't you move that knife any further." Gil was now unbelievably cool, as Jen saw him grip the gun again. Jen was seeing a different side of him. He didn't strike her as the kind of person who would go face-to-face with a potential killer, with his friend's life on the line. But his relationship with Catherine was still a mystery to Jen. She had sensed tension between them from the minute they met at the restaurant, and she had guessed they had history but the type of history where one side of the story was perhaps the opposite of the story told from the other side.

"Drop the gun." Caine muttered again.

"Let her go." Gil replied, not missing a beat.

"Drop the fucking gun!"

"3…" Gil started to count down.

"Oh what you're the one counting now?"

"2…"

"You don't have the guts!"

"1…"

"Gil…don't do it!" Catherine shouted. Jen watched as Catherine covered her ears and the gun fired. Jen saw Caine tense and drop to the ground. Gil didn't even bat an eyelid as he kept the gun in place with one hand. Then she saw him move closer to the body and then he put the gun back in its holster.

"Bastard." He whispered and Jen ran to the body and gave them a moment alone as Gil took Catherine into one of the rooms.

Gil felt like he was going to vomit, but at the moment, his concern was Catherine who was on the verge of breaking down.

"Catherine…I'm sorry I had to put you through that. I…" He whispered as he watched her pace the room.

"Was that good judgement, Gil?"

"No…but…you know what. I don't care. For once, I didn't think of how my actions could affect the case, all right?" He turned around and put his hands on the closed door. "I'm sorry that I lifted my head up from the microscope." He heard her stop and draw in a surprised breath. "We have enough here to last a lifetime anyways." He opened the door and exited the room as he heard the distant siren of the ambulance.

"Well, you have to stay for the trial, don't you?"

"It looks that way." Gil sighed into the phone. He didn't want to have to prolong the visit in Seattle and wondered if he hand done the right thing as he recalled the day's events. He had decided not to report the day's events exactly as they were to Sara, but just told her the case was now closed.

"Well, you have to be back as soon as you're done. We're short handed as it is." Sara told Gil. "Ecklie's unusually calm about it, though. Oh and did you see Catherine at all?"

"Yeah, just briefly." Gil believed it.

"Oh, well how is she doing?"

"Didn't get a chance to talk too long. I've been busy."

"I see…Ecklie says you get a few days off. He says you deserve it." She told him, sighing. It was almost as if she didn't want to tell him.

'No I don't' Gil told himself. "All right Sara. I'll speak to you after the trial." They both hung up at the same time.

Gil closed his eyes as he leaned against the headboard of his bed in his hotel room. He was still slightly shaken up from shooting a person, not a target, point-blank in the head, especially a suspect. Gil rubbed his temples as he tried to calm himself. He had lost all control and all logic when he saw a drop of Catherine's blood trickle down her neck. He could only vaguely remember aiming, pulling the trigger and having a brief conversation with her after. His phone rang again, disturbing his thoughts yet again.

"Hello." He grunted.

"Gil. It's Ian."

"Hello…Ian."

"I…heard about what went down at the suspect's." Ian carefully approached the subject.

"I know I compromised the case…I…I just wasn't thinking."

"No, no need for that. I just wanted to thank you." Gil clenched his teeth.

"For what."

"You know what I'm talking about, Gil. You're an intelligent man. I…I honestly don't know what kind of history you two have and I won't ask just yet but you saved her life."

"It's my job Ian." Gil hated saying this and wondered if she could hear him. "Will you tell her I'm sorry?"

"I will when I see her."

"All right then."

"Thank you." Then they hung up. Gil didn't know why Ian was the one thanking him.

'They're a unit now.' He told himself as he shook his head. He always thought that the leaving would move on faster than the left behind and knew he was right. But it wasn't just a feeling of hopelessness and being abandoned. There was something else that made him want to run to Catherine now. There was another reason why whenever Jen talked about Ian and Catherine together in a sentence Gil felt like a needle was poking at his chest or why he felt like he had plunged into hell when he saw Catherine at the restaurant. It was because Cupid had fired his smoking gun blindly, in the wrong direction.


	9. Chapter 8 :: Game for Four

**Chapter ****8****: Game for Four**

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?"

"I do." Gil replied, almost automatically. The oath did not even register in his head as he raised his hand mechanically and put it down as he took a seat. His posture was infallibly straight, and to the people in the courtroom his look conveyed a sort of dismay for the procedures of law, and he seemed to not care for the trial. But his answers were straight forward, and no one in the room doubted the truth in his statements for even a fleeting moment.

"State your name for the court, please."

"Dr. Gilbert Grissom, G-R-I-S-S-O-M."

"Dr. Grissom, my questions will be straight forward, and I assume you know the drill." The district attorney looked at him with a doubtful look and Gil closed his eyes in a silent nod. Gil just hoped the questions would be as the DA said they would be.

------------------------------------------------

"Can you describe for the jury, what happened at the residence of Mr. Caine?"

Gil did not like this question as he drew a sharp intake of breath. Then he saw Catherine walk in along with Ian and he cursed their timing.

"Well, we had gone to Mr. Caine's residence under authority of a search warrant for his house. He let us in reluctantly and Assistant Director Catherine Willows, Detective McMullen, and myself searched the house and found an abundance of evidence. Suddenly, he…he pulled a knife and threatened AD Willows." He told the DA and he searched for her eyes and found them staring right back at him.

"What happened next, Dr. Grissom?"

"The detective and I both drew our weapons and as soon as he started to run the knife along Ms. Willows's neck, I…before I knew it, I had pulled the trigger." Gil replied, reluctantly and with an immense feeling of guilt, still holding her gaze. When he felt Ian's gaze on him, he turned his eyes away.

"So it was strictly for defense of the Assistant Director's safety and life, was it not?"

"Yes, it most definitely was."

"No more questions, your honour."

-----------------------------------------------------

The sound of the gavel hitting the wood echoed through out the room and rang in Gil's ears. He painfully got up from his seat and headed straight for the door, without looking anywhere else. But it wasn't before he was held back by Ian.

"Gil. Nice job up there."

"Just doing my job." Gil replied, nodding as he saw Catherine come near.

"You seem to say that a lot. You must love doing it. You do it with such precision." Ian replied.

"You better believe it." Catherine broke in as she touched Ian on the arm. She kept her eyes on Gil. He could feel a vibe coming from her that he certainly knew to be one of anger and tension. He heard heels click and soon Jennifer was by his side and he sighed in relief.

"Hi guys. Great job, Gil." Jennifer told him as she patted him on the arm. He nodded.

"What do you say to dinner? On my tab?" Ian suggested, and Gil raised his head.

"What about the press? They've got to be swarming like bees around this place." Gil replied, hoping he could get out of this.

"I'll deal with it. I just have to give them a statement, and they'll take it from there. Don't worry. I have that covered." Ian replied, smiling.

"I don't know…"

"Come on, Gris. Live a little. It's on Ian's tab!" Jennifer replied, all excited now. Gil sighed as he knew he couldn't refuse the offer and break the mood.

"Lead the way." Gil replied, hanging his head and following the three of them out the now empty courtroom.

---------------------------------------------------

"I'll go with the lobster, Mr. Grissom will have the calamari. Ms. Willows will have the oven-baked cod, and Ms. McMullen will have the Sirloin Steak." Ian ordered without looking at the menus, and without asking them, but Gil was surprised; calamari was what he was in the mood for. Gil realized that Ian must frequent Alessandro's. Gil smiled at the waitress and took a sip of his water. He was sitting next to Jen, across from Ian and Catherine. Ian had his arm on the back of Catherine's chair, and he was casually conversing with Jen. Gil excused himself as he went to the bathroom.

He washed his hands and splashed his face as he breathed deeply. He looked at himself in the mirror; the suit, the tie, matched his graying hair and for a minute it was as if he was staring a stranger in the face. He fixed his slightly ruffled hair and headed back out, telling himself to keep his tensed vibe in check.

He opened the door and saw Catherine coming from the opposite direction. He clenched his teeth and just headed back to the table, just passing her without a word, just as if she was a stranger. He sat back at the table where Ian and Jen were passionately engaged in a conversation about TV shows nowadays.

"Don't you think there are too many explicit shows, Grissom?"

"Huh?" Gil hadn't been listening.

"I mean…the gore and the violence in kid's cartoons nowadays. It's appalling."

"Mhm. I agree." Gil said, without much thought.

"And the forensic shows. They make me laugh. I mean they're accurate and everything, but...It's unwanted attention on our part, am I right?" Ian asked.

"Totally. Well I watch them every now and then. They're pretty good. The guys are quite dreamy." Jen added.

"So…Gil. Tell us a little about yourself." Ian said, and Gil frowned.

"About myself?"

"Well..I don't really know who you are, other than the fact that you're one of the best CSIs out there. Catherine hasn't really told me a lot about you." Ian said, chuckling nervously, briefly glancing at Jen. Gil's heart dropped a beat.

"What is there to tell?" Gil asked as he raised an eyebrow, wondering if this is what usually happened at dinners with the Director or the Sheriff.

"Where are you from?"

"California, originally."

"Ah, down south, huh. I lived in LA for a brief time. It was a sweet city."

"That it is. That it is." Gil repeated as he focused on Catherine coming back from the washroom or better yet, trying not to focus on her. She sat down gracefully and without a word.

"So how'd you get to be one of the best CSI's in the country?" Ian continued, and Gil bit his lips.

"Well..I'm not really sure how to answer that. I've just been interested in bugs ever since I was a teenager then I got a job at the morgue down in LA and that's really how I got started." Gil finished and he turned his attention back to his food.

"Well," Catherine started, surprising Gil enough for him to look directly at her, "when I was working in Vegas, the rumour in the lab was that he became this...total workaholic-type person. You know, Ian…someone kind of like you but worse. His work was his life, apparently." Catherine finished, not glancing once at Gil, but just casually eating her food. Ian and Jen both chuckled and Gil just smiled. He was not expecting this "attack" on him.

"I was…a workaholic, I admit." Gil replied, clenching his teeth.

"It can even be an understatement." Catherine added, not missing a beat.

"Well I hear you had a lot of personal problems which spilled over onto cases." Gil replied, his voice rigid.

"Really, where'd you hear that."

"Oh you know, the lab talks." Gil shot back, and Catherine drew in a silenced gasp. He knew he had hit her where it hurt the most and he cursed himself.

"Which shift were you two working?" Jen asked, trying to change the subject. She could even see Ian shift in his chair.

"I was working Swing, and Grissom was working Graveyard." Catherine replied, slightly attacking her food.

"So you must have seen each other."

"Oh yeah. We passed by, and we were just sort of…acquaintances. We didn't know each other well enough to be friends." Catherine replied, casually. Gil tilted his head, in surprise that she could make up something so effortlessly. But somehow, Gil got the feeling that Catherine was not telling a lie but rather, the truth which frightened him to a great extent.

As they finished, one by one, contented sighs were drawn from their lips and satisfied hungers. Jen was looking at Catherine who seemed to be focused on Gil, who in turn was focused on the table and the empty plates. Jen wanted to ask Gil what the story was between him and Catherine, along with the explanation for this immense amount of tension surrounding the table. She guessed that they had perhaps once loved each other, and had had a bad break-up. Ian paid the bill with ease, and was thanked by everyone attending the dinner. They got out to the parking lot where Catherine got into Ian's car after a brief goodbye, without a backward glance, but Jen saw Gil watch her every step walking out of the lot.

"Let's go. I'll drive you back." Jen said, nudging him on the arm. He nodded, and followed her without a word. They got in the car and they started to drive away, and Gil sighed.

"What is going on between you two?"

"Between me and who?" Gil asked, sounding half-genuine.

"You know very well who, Gil. Don't try to pretend like there's nothing there. Ian and I aren't idiots." Jen replied, already sounding angry.

Gil felt exposed. He knew he had gone too far at dinner and he had been afraid that perhaps Ian or Jen may figure out the nature of his relationship with Catherine.

"We…don't agree with each other, so what."

"You know better than me that that's not it! Just tell me! Why won't you tell me?" Jen asked, frustrated.

"Because it's the past."

"But it's affecting the present, Gil."

"Why are you so curious?" Gil was starting to be slightly bothered and annoyed.

"Because! Ever since that dinner when you met them at the restaurant, there was a strange vibe emanating from both of you."

"There was not a vibe." Gil argued, his voice not wavering at all.

"Then you explain to me how you lost your cool with Caine." Jen shot back, driving slightly faster now.

"She was in danger, Jen! It's my job to protect!"

"Protect her by shooting the suspect, point-blank? You scared me! Your face was rigid, no emotion, no mercy. For a second, I almost couldn't believe that it was you standing there. And you explain to me why you tense and freeze up whenever someone even mentions her name?"

Gil was struck dumb and he wanted to bolt out of the car.

"It's none of your business, Jen."

"You're damn right it isn't. But it's affected our work, our case! You screwed up, Gil!"

The car was filled with a deafening silence and Gil sighed, losing all hope and desire to argue any longer.

"We were close and she left with a very short notice and I'm just upset. That's all I'm going to say."

Jen could not push him on further, not because he said he wouldn't talk, but because of the pain in his voice. She knew there was more to the story but fell silent as she sighed, trembling slightly from the sudden rush.

"But would you do me a favour and…keep this between us? I wouldn't want Ian to know something that Catherine chose not to tell him." Gil asked as he got out of the car. She didn't reply and watched him walk away. She suddenly felt sorry she ever asked him, when she fully knew it might hurt him beyond what she could see. She realized he was a man of placid appearance, but inside, it wasn't a heart made of tin. He felt, and he felt with all his being, just the way he immersed himself into his work. Taking in his last request, she realized Gil had let on the fact that he cared about Catherine, and did not want to put her in any kind of trouble or a fix she didn't want to be in.

She had felt like she was being judged tonight, and she had never been so awkward and speechless at a dinner. It all felt like Gil and Catherine were playing a game. It had originally started with two players, and Jen felt almost as if Ian and she were now also a part of it.


	10. Chapter 9 :: Redemption

**Chapter 9****: Redemption**

Gil had spent that night, the next morning, and the next afternoon avoiding all calls. He thought that there was no more news, no more events or conversations that needed to happen, and that he needed to be a part of. He just wanted this time for himself, and he wanted to be able to hear himself think. Gil had gone down to the restaurant for breakfast and lunch, during which he didn't even realize he was eating. He was trimming his beard around nine o'clock to head to dinner, which he did not have an appetite for when he heard the bell ring. He assumed it was someone from the Front Desk or the Concierge.

"Who is it?" Gil knew better than to open doors without asking.

"It's me…Catherine."

He froze; why was she here, just when he was trying to calm down and relax. He didn't know what to do: should he open the door or should he leave it shut, giving some feeble excuse of illness? He opened it, immediately regretting it when he saw her standing in front of him. He gave her a tight smile, but he could feel himself shake.

"Hi Catherine." He tilted his head and hoped he gave of an air of indifference.

"Can I…come in?"

"Sure…I was just relaxing for a bit." He opened the door casually and she brushed by, causing him to close his eyes briefly and prepare himself for the sweet torture that he was about to endure.

"So…the jury called guilty." Catherine told him, as she skimmed her eyes over the room and the state of cleanliness it was in.

"I know. Jen called to tell me." He purposefully put emphasis on Jen's name and saw Catherine pause. "What was it that you wanted to see me about?" He knew he was hurting her pride to have to give in and say thank you when they weren't on such good terms, and although he thought he could enjoy it a little, he couldn't; it hurt him more.

"I just wanted to say…"

"Thank you, I know. Ian called and told me the other day. I told him to pass my apologies onto you, but I guess he didn't." Gil didn't even give her a chance to speak, and it hurt him physically to be putting on this act, which was now getting out of his control.

"Oh…he did, did he?" Catherine now looked dejected and she hugged herself.

"Yep." Gil nodded. Then he realized the softness of her voice that he had so longed to hear. He had been so wrapped up in his want for vengeance that he failed to notice her. He wanted to apologize for being such a jerk, but he couldn't; he was a coward who still wanted to keep the small shards of his broken pride. He was still picking up after his complete breakdown.

"Gil…" Catherine started and Gil clenched his jaws. "I…I…I think I know how much I hurt you when I left." Her voice broke slightly. He frowned, and he scoffed but his heart broke yet another time as memories of his pain passed by his eyes.

"You…when? What are you talking about?" He couldn't even look at her directly. Then she stepped closer to him.

"I really hurt you, didn't I?" She asked, and Gil closed his hand to make a fist and tensed all the muscles in his body to keep standing straight.

"Hurt me? No…I was happy for you." He knew he was shaking and his eyes were wandering around the room.

"You weren't happy for me! Tell me why you didn't call!"

"I was busy okay? You're not the only important thing in my life, you know. I had better things to do than to call you and try and make it all okay!" Gil shot back.

"Gil, stop it! I know how much I hurt you because that's how much I'm hurting right now!" His eyes shot to her but she was looking at the floor. He saw tears form in her eyes. "I don't know how we ever came to this…to the point where we can't even be in the same room or…look at each other, even. But…I guess it's all my fault. I...I also wanted to say thank you…for letting personal stuff slop over into a case." She took shaky breaths and Gil saw that she fidgeted with her fingers. He quickly averted his gaze as her head slowly came back up. "I'll leave now…That's…That's really all I had to say." She started to move towards the door. Gil felt himself suddenly start to panic, and he almost broke down when Gil's heart decided to act on its own.

"God only knows how much I've missed you." He whispered, and he felt his fists uncurl, the tension leave his body to the point he was almost afraid he might drop to the ground. His back was towards the door and he could feel the suspension in the air.

"What did you just say?" Her voice was trembling.

"God only knows how much I've missed you…Cath." He uttered the words and sighed as his whole form slumped. He still refused to face her, as he shook his head. He heard footsteps come closer to him and heard Catherine sigh. Gil continued. "You really did hurt me, more than anyone ever had. Ever since you left, I kept wondering why you had to leave, why you had to leave just then and…wanting to hate you, I told myself that I'll never see you, that it was all over and the more I turned away from the thought of you, I…I started to hate myself and miss you more and for the first time since as long as I can remember…You made me cry, Catherine. Sitting at home, looking at the pictures on my wall…you know me better than anyone else. I'm not one to show my feelings, but that night…I was just drunk enough to let go and…I cried." Gil exhaled as he told her the truth. He heard her quietly sniffle.

"You bastard. Do you know how long I've been waiting for your call? Waiting for you to somehow make the first contact?" She cried and when Gil turned around, her hands covered her face. He gave in to the voice inside his heard as he took her in his arms. It was a desperate plea for physical contact for the both of them. He tried to be as close to her as possible and held her to his form tightly, to the point that he was afraid he might hurt her. She held onto him as she had done that momentous day. "I could only dream of you saying that, you bastard!" Sobs wracked her body, and her sobs along with Gil's shaky sighs, echoed in the room.

"I'm sorry I didn't call. I'm sorry I was being a jerk. You can hate me as much as you want now, for trying to look as if I was unaffected and as if there was anything more important in my life than you." He confessed.

"I can't hate you, Gil. I should hate myself, at this point."

"No, if you're going to hate yourself, just hate me. I don't want you to think any of this was your fault. I'm so sorry." He hugged her tighter to him, and he hated his sweaty palms which were probably dampening her shirt.

"You shouldn't apologize so much. It's your fault as much as it is mine." She answered and their embrace turned from a desperate grasp to a comfortable hold. It was as if the cold front that they had been giving each other, completely melted. He leaned into her, still holding her firmly. He kissed her shoulder tentatively, drawing a content sigh from her lips. She drew back and looked into his eyes, and Gil felt utterly exposed and wondered if she knew what he was thinking.

"Do you know how much I've missed you?" She asked, her arms still linked around his neck. "I know you keep saying that you were too busy to call me, and all those things. But…it's my fault too. I should have known you better than that. I should have known that you wouldn't call me first, since you've always been the socially inept one. I guess I just wanted you to take the first step just this one time. Then life took hold of me. I'm sorry."

"I understand, Catherine." He nodded, and he tried not to grin. "I'm sorry too."

"Are we good?" She asked, smiling. Gil could only give in to the urge and grin as he nodded.

"We'll be fine."

Gil couldn't stop smiling and he knew Catherine could see how relieved he was. But he knew she didn't see the left-over bitterness behind the grin, knowing that she was with someone else. They hugged one more time before slowly breaking off.

"I really did miss you, Catherine." Gil told her, determined to make his visit short, but memorable. She blushed under his comment.

"I believe you. I mean…you, who doesn't do physical contact, just frantically swept me into your arms. What else could it be? You're not that good an actor." She told him, and he chuckled nervously. "You know…I think you owe me a drink." 


	11. Chapter 10 :: Kissing a Fool

"So how do you like Seattle so far?"

Gil and Catherine were walking in the downtown streets after having their drink at the hotel bar. Gil was surprised at the fact that he was already familiar with the environment and felt somewhat at ease. Catherine had her arm linked with his, and his hands were in his pocket. How natural this felt to him. He thought he could do this forever. He knew he could.

"It's…different, and it's interesting." He answered, and she giggled. "What's so funny?" He wondered if it was the alcohol that they had consumed.

"Just the two of us here…walking along the streets of Seattle at an ungodly hour. The fact that we never did this in Vegas surprises me." She replied and he laughed. He suddenly remembered everything back at Vegas, where nothing seemed as bright as it did after she had left him so brutally.

"How's Lindsey?" He asked, a smile appearing on his lips as he thought back to the angel of a daughter Catherine had, whom he hadn't spoken to in too long.

"Oh she's just about getting ready to go to college. She got accepted to UC Berkeley, and it's been really hectic." She told him, and he wondered how she could sound so casual, not letting a hint of pride get into that sentence.

"UC Berkeley? Wow. She's got her mother's intellect." Gil told her and she nudged him. "She'll wonder where you are."

"Oh well. She's 17. I think she can handle herself. At least that's what she's been telling me the last few years. She'll think I'm with Ian anyways." Catherine replied.

Gil's muscles involuntarily tensed and he knew Catherine felt it. There was an awkward silence between them before Gil picked it up again.

"They miss you." Gil whispered and she nodded, knowing whom he was speaking of. "It was really hard for us the first couple of months."

"I'm sorry. I…I know I was being selfish, but…I had to do it."

"You don't have to defend yourself to me. I know it's what you had to do." He replied with a bitter smile and she nodded, acknowledging his understanding. "It's just…you were so important to our team, and…I guess none of us realized it until we didn't have you with us anymore."

"Thank you."

"How do you like it here? How's work? What's it like being an Assistant Director?"

"It's…let's just say I understand what Ecklie was going through. And I really must admit, Seattle is quite generous to law enforcement."

"That says a lot, Catherine." Gil replied, smiling. She chuckled.

"But…I miss being a CSI. I miss being on your team." She told him, squeezing his arm. "I miss getting up late at night, and seeing that beautiful red sunrise as I drive off to a location. I haven't seen a sunrise since, you know."

"Then come back." He told her, not losing a beat. He said it jokingly, but it wasn't a joke. She smiled and shrugged it off. His face mirrored her smile, only it ended much sooner.

"Let's go in here." Catherine was pointing to a quiet coffee shop and Gil was surprised it was open at 10:00pm. They walked in, and grabbed a sofa in the far corner. Catherine turned her body to face Gil.

"So…how about you. Did the bugman date anyone while I was gone?" She asked, hesitantly, knowing Gil never liked the subject. Gil smiled and shook his head. "Oh come on. Not another Teri Miller? No Lady Heather?"

"Afraid not. I've been…really busy." He left out the details of his life back in Vegas; work and Sara. He hadn't seen anyone outside the lab after she had left.

Not another Catherine Willows.

"Oh well. We'll have to find someone for you pretty soon." She muttered as she went to grab their coffees.

"Some day."

-------------------------------------------

After their coffee and feeling warm, they headed to the hotel. Catherine was pointing out places for him to pay special attention to, and as Gil was always eager to learn new things, he absorbed every piece of information Catherine told him, even in passing. As they were passing by an alley, a motorcycle raced out of nowhere, and Gil managed to pull Catherine back in time but lost his balance as he was pushed into the nearest wall.

"What the hell! I swear the traffic is worst here…" Catherine started but didn't finish as she realized she was out of breath. Her back was now against his stomach and his hands were holding her forearms. It wasn't as if it was their first physical contact, but both of them knew it was different somehow. It wasn't intentional, wasn't forced but it came naturally and instinctively. Gil tried to move, but his muscles failed him.

"You know…if you wanted to hold me like this, you could have asked." Catherine had a knack for turning awkward situations into humorous ones. He chuckled as she surprised him by leaning further onto him. He didn't know what else to do other than chuckle as he was hesitant to do anything. He looked around him, and the strange thing was, no one bothered to stare or glare at them. "Come on. I know you want to." When he still didn't move, she forcefully took his hands and put it around her waist, linking her fingers with his. "See? Much better."

"Mhm." Gil could only agree and chuckle. He realized she was quite secure in her relationship with Ian for her to be doing something like this. "You know, we should probably get you home." Gil muttered as he pushed both of them off the wall.

"You want to take me home? Gil Grissom!" She playfully elbowed him in the ribs and he feigned hurt as he leaned his head against her shoulder. They both laughed, their laughter bouncing off the walls of the buildings towering around them. He had to shake his head at how easy they had fallen right back into their friendly bantering, fallen right back into being comfortable and being at ease with each other as much as they had been in when they were best friends back in Vegas.

Fallen right back into each other's arms.

She walked out of his arms and pulled him with her as they resumed their walk back to the Sheraton. It surprised Gil that all this had happened so naturally, so innocently. They walked, arms touching, to the visitor parking and when they arrived at her car, they stood there, not saying anything. He looked at her, her hair a dim yellow under the fluorescent lights of the grey parking lot. He realized he liked seeing her during the day. Because she simply shone.

"So…" He put his hands in his pockets, feeling the emptiness of the pocket except for his hotel card key.

"Oh I forgot to ask. When are you leaving?" She asked him, rummaging in her purse for her keys.

"Ecklie thinks I worked hard and gave me a few days off." Gil replied as he realized how ridiculous that sounded. Her head shot up from what she was doing and she stared at him in disbelief.

"Ecklie? The same Conrad Ecklie who would give me vacation over his dead body?"

"The one and the same." Gil replied, making her roll her eyes.

"What are you up to tomorrow?" She asked.

"What do you think?" He replied, with a hint of sarcasm.

"Okay. So let me take you to breakfast and come to my house to see Lindsey." She dug her keys out of her purse and unlocked the door. She leaned on the driver's door, and looked up at him. "Then…you promise to be mine for the day. Deal?"

"Deal." He was rewarded with a tender kiss on the cheek before she drove away in her Audi, and left him waving at the orange Seattle night sky, and grinning like a fool.


	12. Chapter 11 :: Seattle Follies

When Catherine knocked on the hotel room door, Gil was already dressed in a dress shirt underneath a suede jacket with black slacks. She was dressed as she would have dressed during the autumn nights in Nevada; jeans with a windbreaker that fit her form perfectly. Her hair was tied back and sunglasses were perched on her head. She looked relaxed, and comfortable, which was something Gil hadn't been or seen in a long time.

Seattle was surprisingly sunny that morning as Gil rode in Catherine's Audi sedan. The town was already bustling and when Gil rolled down his window, the smell of freshly-brewed coffee hit him. He saw businessmen and women briskly walk to their places of work, donning long overcoats. He almost thought he could recognize some of them. He shook his head, smiling. Routine.

"It's interesting the first week or two, then it all becomes the same. Vegas, Seattle. You name any other city in America, and it'll work." She blurted, as she made a turn. He looked at her with a frown.

"Really? So you don't find travelling fascinating? I thought you did."

"I didn't say I don't enjoy travelling. If you're travelling you don't stay at the same place for more than a week. If you lived here, you would know exactly what I'm talking about." She replied. They had driven for about 20 minutes when they arrived at the outskirts of the city, where the residential area was located. To Gil's surprise, the houses were all new and the neighbourhood looked too clean, too identical, and too artificial.

"We're here."

They had pulled into the driveway of a very immaculate home, which to Gil, screamed 'Catherine'. He had imagined that she would live in a house somewhat like this one, and he thought that perhaps he might have been able to find it himself. It was cool and modern, with its perfectly painted dark grey and white exterior and a perfectly kept yard with absolutely stunning flowers. He was left speechless as they walked up to her front door.

"Now Gil, don't be alarmed if Lindsey's…indifferent. You have to remind yourself she is 17." Catherine told him, and Gil involuntarily gulped as he stared at the mahogany door. She unlocked it and he followed her in.

The interior was almost flawless, exactly the opposite of his own bode. His home used to be flawless as well, but that all had changed drastically as of recent; it was cluttered and it seemed as if no one had lived there for a couple of years.

"Great place, Catherine. I always pictured you living in a house like this." Gil muttered as he took a glance around the house. He saw Catherine smile through the corner of his eyes.

"Thanks. I…I worked hard for this."

"You deserve it." He told her as he looked at her with sincere eyes.

"Lindsey! Come down here, please!" Catherine shouted as she stayed by Gil's side. Gil watched Lindsey, immersed in her Mp3 player but he saw the surprised smile on her face when their eyes met. She threw the gadget aside and she came running into his arms, almost knocking him over.

"Uncle Gil! How….why….oh my god!" She asked, after a minute of reunion. "How come you didn't call?" She asked, giving him a slight smack on his chest. He was surprised at how much Lindsey had grown, and how much she and Catherine were alike.

"I was really busy." He replied, shrugging the thought of telling her the story. Lindsey smiled as they hugged again.

"So you didn't just come to see us." Lindsey muttered, innocently. Gil's heart contracted.

"Well…not exactly. I'm here for a case."

"Why didn't you ever say he was here, mom?" Lindsey asked Catherine. Gil saw Catherine falter slightly and quickly came to her aid.

"I told her not to tell you. I wanted this to be a surprise, although it came a little too late." He told Lindsey, smiling. He saw Catherine stare at him in slight disbelief.

"How long are you here for? Not leaving too soon, I hope."

"About two more days. We just wrapped it up." He replied as Lindsey led him to the family room. Gil raised an eyebrow at the very large flat-screen TV and a small wall full of DVDs. He always knew Catherine enjoyed movies, and it seemed to him that all these things combined, she was living her dream life.

"Interesting case?" Lindsey asked as she sat on the sofa and indicated for him to sit down as well.

"Just high profile. That's why I was sent up here, otherwise…I might not have seen you guys for a while." Gil admitted, hoping Lindsey wouldn't catch the guilt in his voice.

"Why were you so busy?"

"Lots of paperwork. Your mother was my right and my left hand with those things. It took me all day to finish the backlogs." He replied.

"Wow. So nothing new since we left, huh?" She asked, crossing her legs.

"Absolutely nothing. Other than the fact that you and I have both gotten older." He replied, making her smile. "Heard you got into UC Berkeley. Congratulations."

"Oh, it's really nothing. Just had a flash of good luck. I need to tough it out still." She told him, blushing from his compliment.

"I know you'll do well. I always knew you'd become a someone." He told her, smiling and nodding.

"Did you miss us?" Lindsey asked, brushing her hair away from her face.

"Oh most definitely. It almost felt like I lost family." He confessed, and Lindsey laughed.

"I thought so. You lived like a hermit when we were there. I can't imagine how you lived without us." She told him, and to Gil, she sounded too much like a mature adult, and it made him afraid. Afraid of realizing how old he himself was. "So…have you met Ian?" Gil smiled.

"Yes, I have. He's…a great guy. Don't think I could have picked out a better man for your mom." He replied, and he really did mean it. But he saw Lindsey looking at him through narrowed eyes and it seemed as if she wanted to say something. "What do you think, Linds? Do you like Ian?"

"Well, I mean…he's nice and all, but…" Lindsey seemed like she did not want to finish the rest of the sentence. She simply hung her head and sighed.

"But what, Lindsey?"

"I…I don't know. He's great." She replied, quickly, trying to avoid the subject. Gil frowned slightly but decided to leave the matter for now.

"I'm really glad to see you both so happy and…your lives seem to be going in an awful better direction than they were when you guys were in Vegas." Gil told Lindsey, chuckling. He saw her nod and smile as well.

"Guys? Breakfast!" Catherine called from the kitchen over clangs and bangs from the kitchen. Lindsey and Gil moved into the kitchen, with an air of anticipation.

The smell of toast and fried eggs met Lindsey and Gil. Lindsey plopped herself into the dining chair, picking up the morning's newspaper along with a green apple. Gil looked at Catherine, handling the food skilfully. He opened the fridge door to pull out orange juice and apple juice, along with cups from the cupboard above. He didn't even realize that he knew where all of these things would be. He took a moment to observe how well the three of them fit together in the kitchen, and knew if a stranger walked by their dining room window, he or she would think that the three were a regular family, getting ready to have a regular breakfast. But then he thought it would work just as well with Ian in his place, and to Catherine and Lindsey, it wouldn't make a difference. What they simply needed was a steady column to be able to lean on when they were off-balance. He used to believe that he could have provided such support, but now he doubted himself.

"Thanks, Gil. Have a seat." Catherine told him, smiling. He obliged, taking a seat across from Lindsey. He briefly glanced over the front page of the newspaper and saw nothing of interest to him.

"So what are you two up to, today?" Lindsey asked, her voice slightly muffled by the newspaper and the apple in her mouth.

"Well..it's really up to Uncle Gil to decide." Catherine replied, pulling out plates for the three of them. "What do you want to do, Gil?"

"Dealer's choice?" Gil offered, trying to talk his way out of this one. Lindsey giggled, and Catherine just shook her head.

"It's just so like you. You never choose and you're too indecisive. It's going to get you someday, you know." Lindsey giggled as she received her plate from Catherine who was now sitting down.

"Trust me, it already has." Gil replied, and he felt an inquisitive stare from Catherine bore into the side of his head. He took a bite out of his toast.

"So…how about a tour of Seattle?" Lindsey suggested, and Gil shrugged.

"Whatever your mother likes." He answered as he felt her leg brush his. He looked at her as she drank her orange juice.

"Do you ever think of yourself before my mother? Come on. What do _you_ want?" Lindsey asked, now obviously frustrated. Catherine was now looking at him to answer. He felt a tingly sensation go down his spine. He really didn't want anything else, other than to just sit at that table with the two of them and have breakfast. It really was all he could ever ask for. He wanted to tell them so, but the stares he was getting from them kept him from expressing a word.

"I…I want…I want to go….shopping?"


	13. Chapter 12 :: Modeling

"Gil I'm so surprised you agreed to come."

"So am I." He replied as he rolled his eyes. Lindsey had decided to tag along, and for Gil, the situation was worse. Here he was, with the two Willows, in Seattle's biggest outlet mall.

They were just entering the mall. It was bustling, even during early hours. The three stopped, all pondering on what to do next.

"So what are you supposed to do, when you're at a place like this?" Gil asked, as he felt Catherine link her arm in his, and Lindsey take hold of his other arm.

"Follow my lead." Lindsey said to Gil as the two dragged him into the nearest store, Ralph Lauren.

-------------------------------------------

When Gil changed into the loose jeans and a white cotton long sleeve sweater, he noticed that he had lost weight since…he couldn't remember. He hadn't done any exercise or anything, but he guessed it was after she left Vegas. He realized he looked ten years younger in the clothes that Lindsey had picked out for him. He was shy pulling back the curtains and turning once for them to see.

"I told you, you'd look great!" Lindsey exclaimed as she took a few steps towards him. Gil realized how much taller Lindsey was; she was now Catherine's height, and Gil gulped as she fingered the material of his sweater. "Don't you think he looks great, mom?" Catherine stood up, and walked over to them.

"He looks very cute, Lindsey. Good choices." Catherine replied. Gil didn't even notice as Lindsey took his wallet and the tags from his clothes as he held Catherine's gaze. She walked right up to him and she put her hand on his arm. "See? You should wear these more often. Don't hide in black clothes, Gil."

"Yeah. Okay." He replied as he nodded.

"So you're really okay with being our mannequin for today? Catherine asked, when Lindsey came back with the receipt and led the way out of the store.

"As long as it's you that's dressing me." He told her as he smirked. She playfully nudged his arm with her head, as she giggled.

-------------------------------------

It was just five o'clock when they arrived back at Catherine's house. They were all carrying at least two bags each. Two-thirds of it was to be Gil's and the other third was Lindsey's. To Gil's surprise, Catherine had refused to buy any clothes, and he guessed she was afraid he might buy her something. Their feet were aching as they all plopped down onto the couch with a groan.

"That's the last time I'm ever doing that." Gil announced firmly, and Lindsey giggled. "I'm serious. I'm set for life."

"Yeah. We really did spend quite a bit." Catherine added, drawing another groan from Gil. "Mr. Grissom, I'm afraid you may be broke."

"Yeah, I'll just work more. What else do I have to do?" He half-heartedly joked, but he knew he really had nothing to go back to other than the lab.

"I'm going upstairs, okay? Call me for dinner. Until then…keep your hands to yourself, Uncle Gil."

"Lindsey!" Catherine exclaimed in shock, but all she was answered by Lindsey's running up the stairs. Catherine chuckled, and Gil scoffed as he shook his head. "She's partly right you know, Gil. You couldn't keep your hands or eyes off me at the mall."

"I know." He replied as he looked at her. She smiled at him and he fidgeted.

"So…what about dinner? Are you going to grace us with your company?" She asked, making him laugh.

"It would be an honour for me to sit at the same table as the Willows Family." He told her, then he realized that they may soon become the Gates family and he was afraid. He had never liked it when she changed her name to Willows, although it flowed; and now it just simply stuck. But he doubted that Ian would be happy with Catherine keeping her dead ex-husband's name.

"Hmm..how does roasted chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, sound?" She asked, as she got up from the sofa, headed to the kitchen.

"Sounds absolutely delicious. Can I help?" He got up, wiping his hands on his new jeans.

"Sure. Help me cook the gravy." She requested as she drew out the ingredients for him. When he was set with an apron, which made Catherine burst out in giggles, he cleared his throat.

"Bam."


	14. Chapter 13 :: A Kodak Moment

Gil sat, bloated, and watched as Lindsey and Catherine talked about Lindsey's potential boyfriend. Catherine obviously didn't approve, and Lindsey couldn't understand why and she was getting frustrated. Gil felt it was best not to intervene.

"Gil, what do you think?" Catherine asked, looking at Gil for support. Non-involvement just went past his head.

"I…I don't know." He muttered, and Catherine shot him a glare. "I think…it's best to listen to your mother Lindsey. But hey…it's really up to you." He replied, trying to reassure both pairs of eyes staring eyes staring at him, expectantly.

"I'll think about it. Do you guys mind if I go up to my room?" Lindsey asked, and Catherine shook her head. "Oh uncle Gil, are you staying over?" Lindsey couldn't suppress giggles and a smirk.

"Lindsey!"

"Oh it's all right, Catherine. She's just joking." Gil added, bitterly. He saw Lindsey squint her eyes from the corner of his eyes. "I'm not sure. That's up to your mother and me to decide. I'll let you know." He smiled and a confused Lindsey went upstairs without another wise comment and in her own thoughts.

The two sat at the table in silence, as they were done their dinner. Gil glanced at the clock on the wall next to the refrigerator; 8:00pm. He wondered how much longer he could stay, especially alone with Catherine.

"Want a drink, Gil?"

"I'd love one." He replied, and as they got up together, they both reached for the biggest plate to take back to the sink and their hands met. He felt something like a bug crawl along his arm, and he met her eyes which were smiling.

"Let me, please. You make the drinks and I put the dishes away. Deal?" Gil suggested, smiling right back.

"Okay, but you spoil me." She added, pouting. He chuckled, realizing just how much he had missed this air between them, and he proceeded to put the dishes in the dishwasher. Gil glimpsed at Catherine making the drinks and somehow, he lost all track of the bitterness and the heaviness that he carried over from Vegas. To see her, truly in her own element, living a life in which she could balance work with her personal life, was almost cathartic for Gil as he had wished her nothing more. He wished he was carrying a camera, but because he didn't, he stopped and made a rectangle with his fingers in front of his eyes, which framed Catherine and when she looked at him, he made a clicking noise with his mouth.

"Gil?" She frowned.

"I'm taking a mental picture." He replied as he loaded the last dishes. "As a souvenir." After closing the dishwasher and pressing the somehow familiar WASH button, he looked for Catherine, who had moved onto the porch. He obliged and headed outside, closing the glass door.

It was crispy but not too cold, and Gil found himself enjoying the weather of a Seattle fall. Her backyard seemed too perfect, not flawed even in the corner nor the bushes surrounding the house. The square backyard had a barbeque grill on the far side and a table, where Catherine was now seated, with two cups of tea. Gil sat across from her and took a sip of the vanilla nutmeg tea.

"Smells like heaven." He commented, and she hummed in agreement. As Gil revelled in the silence of the residential area, he looked at the stars and smiled.

"Still stargaze, Gil?"

"Just a bit." He replied, spotting a few constellations and a shooting star. He was brought back down to earth by Catherine's hand on his.

"I'm glad you're here. I don't care how, I just know it feels right. I never felt good about…leaving like that, but I…I really had no choice." She told him, and he smiled bitterly.

"I know. I…I just wished you had given me longer notice or discussed it with me somehow." He replied, looking at their joined hands.

"I thought you would. I…I didn't want to tell you because…because I knew you could convince me otherwise, and I couldn't risk that." She said, in a whisper. "You would have been the only one who ever stood a chance of stopping me, you know?"

"I would have?" He asked, in disbelief.

"Gil. How long have we known each other?"

"21 years, just about." He replied.

"Exactly." That was all the answer Gil had needed. Then the phone rang, and Catherine ran in. He perked his ears.

"Yeah, I have Gil over…yeah I'll be sure to tell him…hahaha…I thought you trusted me?" Catherine chuckled. "I know…I love you too. Bye." Ian.

"Ian says he wants to see you before you leave, but he might not be able to. He says thanks again and he adds the fact that he trusts both of us." She told him, as she came back out on to the lawn, smiling. She sat down in front of him, and he had to indulge her.

"So…tell me about this…Ian Gates." Gil told her, jokingly, squinting his eyes.

"Ian? Oh he's just…I guess you could call him foolish for falling in love with me," she started, slightly blushing but smiling now, "but he's just…he's so…I don't know if the word "warm" would do him justice. He treats me like…he treats me like you do, which is very hard to do." She told him as she smiled at him. He chuckled, nervously. As she kept on talking about Ian, Gil noticed that the smile didn't leave her face, and he also noticed that he, Gil, probably looked the way she did, blushing and grinning, when he first met her.

"Tell him thank you for me, will you?" Gil added.

"I will." She winked.

They took their cups inside as it was starting to get chilly. Catherine put the cups in the sink. "So Gil. Are you staying over?" Gil looked at Catherine with a mildly startled expression.

"Well…I…I don't know." He stuttered, causing Catherine to smile.

"Well tomorrow is Sunday and I want to do something special for or with you. Maybe you should save me the trouble of going to the hotel." She replied, smiling. Gil felt his cheeks redden and he feigned a cough.

"Are you sure I won't be a hassle or bother you?" He asked, uncertain. She briefly smiled and came over to him and touched his arm.

"Have you ever been?" She asked, and he knew the answer. "Don't answer that actually."

"I don't have anything prepared."

"Hmm…I don't want to go back…oh. Wait. I might have something. Come on." She hopped to the stairs and up, with Gil walking after her. He hesitated at her bedroom door, but gulped as he tiptoed in. He heard her rummage through her closet drawers and suddenly heard it close as he was taking a look.

It was a spacious room with an ensuite bathroom. The walls were painted dark khaki with white crowning. The carpet was dark grey, which somehow matched the mahogany king-sized bed. There was a TV and next to it was a walk-in closet.

She jumped out in front of him with a navy blue blob of clothing and he saw her smile as she unravelled a pair of sweatpants. His eyes widened as he recognized them.

"Hey…those are my favourite…So that's where they were all this time!" He exclaimed, making Catherine laugh. "I've been looking for them everywhere! Since when did you have access to those, missy?" He asked, under pretence of scolding.

"When I went over that time when we had a black-out… with the thunderstorm?"

"Oh right." He remembered the dark, stormy night of that Catherine knocked on his door with Lindsey and Lily in tow, and still remembered the knot in his stomach. She giggled as she threw him the pants.

"And…no shirts of yours though." She said, as she tried to feign disappointment. "Darn." She acted, and Gil laughed. "I guess you'll just _have to_ go without a shirt tonight." She couldn't hide a mischievous smirk and Gil laughed harder.

"Hey, don't sweat it." He winked, and Catherine giggled. "Mind if I use your bathroom?"

"Go ahead." She replied as she headed back into the walk-in closet. He took his sweatpants and quickly changed inside the bathroom. He took off his new shirt carefully before washing his face. He realized that he couldn't remember the last time he looked at himself reflected on the mirror, but he knew he looked different; his hair was highlighted with more grey and he raised an eyebrow at the loss of mass around his waist. He ruffled his hair and beard before exiting the bathroom, his head full of her perfume emanating from the bathroom and registering in his mind as distinctively Catherine Willows.


	15. Chapter 14 :: The Way We Were

Catherine was in the same pair of PJs she had worn that night with the thunderstorm. She was sporting a black tank top with grey silk pajama pants. When she saw him, her head tilted to the side and Gil could feel himself blush.

"Wow, Gil. Did you work out while I was gone?"

"Um…No. I just…Too much work I guess." He replied, not giving her the full story of him purposely immersing himself in work. He never wanted to go over that again. He wanted to leave his mistakes in the past, and make sure that he would never make them again; but he knew he would, whether he wanted to or not.

"You look good, Grissom." She commented as she put her hair up into a bun.

"Thank you." He muttered, quietly as he placed his hand on his stomach. "So…want to show me the guest room?"

"Oh right. This way." She replied as she led the way, but it was only a couple of steps as the guest room was between Catherine's and Lindsey's room. Convenient, Gil thought. "But Gil…you want to go to bed already? It's 9:45."

"Oh. I didn't realize that the night was still young." He replied, raising an eyebrow. "What to do though?"

"Movie?" She offered, turning back to her bedroom. Gil gulped and wondered if he could handle it.

"Sure." To Gil's disappointment, he could never refuse this woman. He would probably take a vacation off of work before refusing, and that really meant something if you were someone like Gil Grissom.

"I'll go make some popcorn and you choose the movie." She told him, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, and Gil could only smile.

"Okay."

"There's a whole collection of them in the living room." She told him, as she pointed to it on her way down the stairs. Gil followed her down, wondering if there was anything he could put on as a shirt. Then he remembered the black hoodie that Lindsey had picked out for him at the mall. He went to grab it from the shopping bag, catching a glimpse of the night outside. He put on the sweater and headed into the living room, with echoing sounds of popping corn.

"What did you choose?" Catherine asked as she came into her bedroom, popping a few kernels in her mouth.

"A Perfect World." He replied, turning on the DVD player to put the disc in.

"Did I just hear you right? You picked out_ A Perfect World?_ That's one of my favourites!" She exclaimed, spilling some popcorn and taking a seat on her bed, sitting up against the headboard. "Did not know you liked that movie." She patted the place next to her.

"There are a lot of things you still don't know about me, Catherine." He replied as he obliged her and walked to her bed. He sat on it nervously and he felt as if he could fall off.

"Do I smell or something?" She asked. "Am I that repulsive?"

"No, not at all." Gil replied, hurriedly. "It's just…it's your bed."

"Ah. The male ego again." She dragged him closer to her with a hand on his arm. She now sat against Gil with her back on his side, still facing the TV. Gil's eyes widened as she sighed. "See? That's better. Besides. A girl needs a pillow." She added, making them both laugh. He knew he wasn't going to be able to watch most of the movie. He was glad he had seen it before.

---------------------------------------

The movie had met the expectations; Catherine sobbed part way through the movie, and somehow they had fallen asleep.

During the movie, they talked of this and that, but Gil knew she was more immersed in the movie than he was. He couldn't keep a straight mind with her leaning on him this way. Then at about halfway through the movie, he gave up his ego and put his arm around her, causing her to snuggle deeper into him. He occasionally found himself slightly stroking her stomach as he crunched on popcorn and stopped himself abruptly when he did; the strange thing was, he never heard a word from Catherine. Just a few days ago, he knew he couldn't have dreamt of this in his wildest dreams, and he pinched himself secretly, just wondering if this was really happening. It was as if they'd stepped back in time, to that night with the thunderstorm. Right then, they were the way they were a year ago, before everything happened.

He knew he could never do this with anyone else, just because it was _theirs_. Not just because he feared physical contact with anyone else, which was a small factor, but because nights like this one were distinctively their own and he didn't want anyone else to experience it. But he knew Catherine may have done this with Ian, and suddenly, he could feel every wrinkle, every fold and flap of the bed underneath him as he became conscious of where he was sitting. But somehow, as if entranced by her smell, by her presence, he fell asleep and somehow as if she had been too comfortable, they both fell asleep.

The credits rolled suddenly with loud music, and Grissom flinched in his sleep. He felt her whole body against his, and he froze. His body tensing made her stir. He had his left arm underneath her head, and had his other arm comfortably wrapped around her waist. His nose was right in her neck, being tickled by her strawberry blonde hair. He took the opportunity to look at her peaceful face in his arms.

"Catherine?" She groaned in response and only moved in closer. This was dangerous; too dangerously close for Gil Grissom. He didn't know if he would be able to control himself with Catherine in this vulnerable position. He could very easily drape his arms around her, and hold her like there was no tomorrow. He could very easily kiss the top of her head, then move down to kiss her exposed neck. He knew he could just confess to her here that he was hopelessly in love with her. "Catherine." When he received no reply, he decided to let her sleep, and would talk to her tomorrow. As he started to slip his arm out, she mumbled something like a 'don't go' and Gil froze again. She tugged at his shirt, drawing him closer to her. He thought she was still half asleep; he hoped she was. He didn't know how to get himself out of this situation that he had gotten himself into, but he silently thanked God when Catherine woke up. But that prayer was thrown out the window when she started to cry again.

"Cath? Oh man. Don't cry." He wondered if he was like every other man in this aspect; a woman's tears were his weak point and he knew he couldn't help it. "Why are you crying?" He held her shoulders as she cried into the pillow.

"How can I not? How do _you_ not cry with this movie?" Her speech was slurred; she was half-asleep.

"I…I'm sorry?" He asked, making her laugh and cry at the same time. "Oh come on. Don't cry. You're making me feel guilty I'm not bawling."

"It's not your fault. You're a man, what can you do?" She muttered, her voice slightly muffled by the pillow she had her face in.

"'But the fault dear Brutus is not in the stars but in ourselves; that we are underlings.'" He commented.

"Shakespeare? Still?"

"The occasion called for it." He replied. She sighed as she turned around, turning the TV off. Her eyes were swollen red with tears and she wiped them on her blanket. "Let me get you those tissues." He reached for the box on her nightstand and handed them to her. She gratefully took them and wiped her eyes, still hiccupping every now and then.

"Are you seriously unaffected?" She asked, again, absolutely baffled as to how he could keep his composure.

"No. I'm affected. Just not enough to cry." He replied, glad her sobbing subsided.

"Did I really make you cry, Gil?" She asked, now worried and drawing her legs closer to her. He was silent, looking at the ceiling for a while.

"I was sort of…sort of drunk." He replied, trying to keep his bit of ego.

"I'm sorry." She commented as she sniffled again.

"Don't be. I'm not. It's the past now. I'm sure it won't happen again." He told her, trying to reassure not just her but also himself. He made a vow with that statement; he wouldn't cry again because of her.

"I don't want to move." She sighed as she sprawled on the bed.

"Well I have to go to bed now." He replied, still not moving a muscle.

"Fine. Leave me." She gave him a smack on his stomach, causing him to double up for a moment, and turned away from him.

"Hey, you're not mad, are you?" Gil asked, holding her bare shoulders, trying to make her face him again. She only huffed and Gil scratched his head. "Come on, for real?" He asked, really wondering if she was mad at him. She burst out giggling as she turned over.

"How are you so naïve? You of all people, Gil." She told him. He gritted his teeth in false anger and squinted his eyes. "Wait. Gil. Don't. Don't you dare. I will kick you out of this house if you do." She was too late. Gil attacked her waists, tickling her like there was no tomorrow. She thrashed this way and that, and Gil held her down with his body. Although Catherine never realized it, Gil had lost all self-control and the only thing he wanted to be at that moment was close to her. His arms went around her and he hugged her to him while his fingers did the work. She buried her face into his shoulder. "Gil, please, stop! Oh God! " But he continued, until Lindsey burst in the door.

"Mom? What's wrong?" Lindsey shouted as she came in. Gil stopped and stared at Lindsey. "Um…care to explain what's going on here?"

"Lindsey…it's not what it looks like." Gil explained. He realized he was now on top of Catherine with her facing him.

"What does it look like?" Lindsey asked, crossing her arms.

"I was tickling her. That's all." He replied, moving off of Catherine who turned around. "Right, Cath?"

"Of course. Were you worried? What were you worried about, Lindsey?" Catherine asked, still breathless from the endless laughing.

"I heard cries going 'Oh God Gil!' from the room, but I guess I was just…not in the right mindset." Lindsey told them.

"Lindsey!"

"Well what do you expect?" Lindsey asked, as she came closer to the bed. "So, children. Are we done playing?" Gil chuckled and nodded as he sat up straight. "All right. I would like to get some decent sleep, because mom tells me we're doing something special tomorrow. So good night you two." Lindsey told them, and walked out of the room with a grin.

"Why is it that I feel like I've gone all the way back to high school and that was just my mother." Gil pointed out for the both of them and they burst out laughing at the same time. He looked at her, and smiled. She hugged him suddenly and Gil could only chuckle as he hugged her back. She kissed his cheek and he smiled when they broke off.

"Good night Catherine."

"Good night Gil." He slowly got off the bed and exited with a backward glance and an awkward wave. He paused a while outside her door and he pursed his lips in thought briefly before he headed into his own room, his nose filled with the scent of her hair.


	16. Chapter 15 :: None For Myself

Gil awoke suddenly, his eyes snapping wide open. Any traces of a dream he may have had disappeared as he was rudely awakened by something he could not determine. He looked around the ceiling, taking a moment to realize where he was. His eyes relaxed when he felt the blankets and the bed underneath him, soft and adjusted to his form. He sat up, and rubbed his eyes. He realized he had spent too many nights such as this one, wasting it away by drinking or simply lying on the bed, thinking. He wished, for the moment, that he was back in Catherine's bedroom, the same position he was in, merely a couple of hours ago. But he scolded himself, over and over again, telling himself that he could not possibly get used to this sort of comfort with her, telling himself that it would all be over in a day.

It was only 4 A.M, and he decided that he needed a very cold drink to get himself back to sleep.

He opened the door, and struggled to find the lights for the stairs. He hugged the wall and expertly found the switch and frowned, wanting to relieve himself of the brief pain the lights caused him. He tiptoed down the stairs, making sure that he didn't awake the two ladies, and found the kitchen, its lights turned on already. He raised an eyebrow, and thinking Catherine had left them on, he reached for the water in the refrigerator and closed the door.

"Can't sleep?"

Gil's head shot around, frightened, and he sighed when he found Lindsey already with a cup of milk in her hand. She smiled, knowing she had scared him. He relaxed.

"Jesus, Lindsey. You gave me a good scare." Gil replied, pouring himself a cup. "Why are you up?"

"The same reason you are, Uncle Gil." She replied, and he chuckled at Lindsey's tone, which Catherine usually carried when talking to him. Lindsey seemed to be on a mission, and Gil hoped that what he was thinking she would ask him, wouldn't actually be what Lindsey was thinking. He took a long sip from the cup, relishing the feeling of cold water running down his parched throat. With a satisfied sigh, he poured himself some more, then put the water back in the fridge. His back tingled, knowing that Lindsey was staring at him intently.

"So you did end up staying over." She said, clearly trying to broach a topic. "I'm not certain of some aspects of what I saw tonight." He raised an eyebrow at her remark, at the fact that Lindsey was a young lady of great intelligence and shrewdness. He thought he'd never say that some people may be too smart and too observant for their own good and others'.

"And what aspects were those, Lindsey?" Gil asked, challenging her on. He knew this was dangerous, and a part of him knew that he would only end up losing this challenge and that he would be committing a major blunder if he was to back down. But he held her stare. Lindsey smiled, accepting the silent offer. She put her hands together, the same way Gil had many times when talking to Catherine.

"You know very well what I'm talking about. You're not all that hard to see through you know. You're not as opaque as you want to portray yourself to be."

"I feel like I'm talking to a psychologist." Gil replied, trying to not answer her comments. He tried to give a brief chuckle, but the attempt fell flat. He took a sip of emptiness from his cup, no longer filled with the cold water he needed to survive this moment.

"AP Psychology has its pros." Lindsey stood up from the sofa and approached the counter Gil was leaning on. "You like her, don't you?" He laughed at himself. Like. If only.

"Like who?" Gil replied, closing his eyes so he could avoid what seemed like a knowing stare coming from Lindsey. This was the first time he was actually afraid of someone.

"Come on, don't try to ask your way out of this one." She replied, and Gil realized Lindsey had known him all too well for him to try his usual strategy of asking questions to answer other people's questions. "You like my mom."

"Of course I do, Lindsey. You've known this for a long time now, I'd hope." He replied, appearing casual and nonchalant.

"I already know you like her that way, but you know very well what I'm asking about, Uncle Gil. I'm not that three year old who told you stupid jokes about bugs." She told him, half-jokingly. Gil smiled in reminiscence, but his reverie was broken by Lindsey's stare. He realized that she would not give up unless he told her what he felt, and that he had no way of backing out of this deadlock.

"Lindsey…"

"Am I right or not?" She demanded, and Gil sighed. He wanted to tell her to mind her own business, to not stick her nose in his affairs, and to stay away from these topics which even he could not understand within himself. But he loved her too much to say those things to her and not feel horrible about it. But he still resisted.

"Lindsey. This is the one thing that I can't simply go about answering you just because you're curious." He told her, desperate.

"I already know, Uncle Gil. I just felt like you knew it too, but was trying to avoid it and hide it the best you could." She told him, frustrated. "I just want an affirmation so that you could…"

"So what if I do, Lindsey? What could I do different?" Gil asked, knowing he had indirectly confessed the crime of his heart.

"You could tell her, for one." Lindsey told him, and Gil chuckled.

"I wish, Lindsey. I wish."

"Why not?" She asked, and Gil frowned. He looked at her, and she seemed to be on his side.

"I can't do that simply because I want to. I'd be putting your mom's happiness at risk." Gil replied, not liking the seriousness the conversation was adopting.

"How do you know you're putting it at risk? How do you know you won't make her happier?" Lindsey asked, frustrated.

"I don't. That's the thing, Lindsey. I don't know either way, and even if we assume it's a 1 chance she won't be happy if I tell her, I still can't risk it." He replied, and Lindsey sighed. "Lindsey. You know what I learned today? Your mom looked the happiest I've ever seen her all these years. She has a job she can balance with her personal life, she has a beautiful house, and she's on good terms with you… She's living her dream life. I can't have that go tumbling down just because I can't keep a secret." He told her, sighing. Lindsey remained silent, and she looked as if she understood, but she wasn't happy with the understanding.

"So you think she'll be happy with Ian?" Lindsey asked, her voice slightly trembling. "Do you think I'll be happy with him?"

"She already looks happy with him, Lindsey. About you…I'm not sure, but you'll have to try for your mom." He told her, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "And although you're saying this right now, I know you will. You've always been there with her. And she loves you for that." Lindsey paused, and she looked like she was trying to suppress her frustration and her anger.

"But she has a right to know, Uncle Gil!"

"She might have a right to know, but she doesn't have to know. For now…do your mom and I a favour and please don't tell her about this conversation?" He asked, pleading. Looking back, he wished he could be this direct and convincing with himself when it was really necessary.

"I just…I want you to be happy too, Uncle Gil." Lindsey added, stepping closer to him. Gil drew her into a hug, and she sniffled.

"I know, honey. You don't have to tell me. Don't worry about me, because…for me to be happy, your mom needs to be happy. I'll be fine to see her happy."

"Even if it's with someone else?" Lindsey asked, wiping her eyes now. He couldn't reply for a moment as he pondered on his answer.

"…Even if it's with someone else."


	17. Chapter 16 :: Disappearing Treads

Poke.

Gil frowned as he looked around him. What was poking him? He was in the middle of a body farm, and something was poking at his arm. At first he swatted it away, but when it persisted, he turned around.

"Gil?" A dream. The present revealed a blurry Catherine.

"Hey." He replied, groggily. "Good morning."

"Morning."

Catherine was sitting on the edge of the bed and now he was turned towards her, rubbing his eyes. She lied down next to him on the already cramped twin bed.

"Ready for another day with me?" She asked, turning towards him. He smiled as he shook his head.

"Not quite. Not quite." He replied, reaching for the cup of water on the nightstand next to him. He sat up briefly, took a sip, and lay back down. "It'll take me a while to be ready for one of those." Catherine laughed, her laughter shaking the bed. She then hugged his waist, snuggling into his side. His eyes widened awake from their state of slumber.

"I missed you." She told him, sighing. Gil gulped. The conversation between him and Lindsey flooded back to him, and he sighed involuntarily.

"You've missed me during the night? Wow, Cath. I didn't know that's what you wanted." He replied, making a joke, and Catherine giggled. "So what do you have in store for me, today?" He asked, ruffling his hair.

"The beach."

"The beach? I don't have any trunks on me."

"Oh yes you do."

"No I don't."

"I bought some at the mall the other day." She replied, giggling. He chuckled, shaking his head. "So there goes your excuse of no-trunks-no-swimming."

"All right, then. Are we ready to start the day, dear?" Gil asked, briefly tickling her and drawing a giggle out of her and a smack on his chest.

"Ready or not, here we come."

The drive to the beach was shorter than he thought it would be, but the presence of Catherine and Lindsey may have added to the effect of time flying. When they arrived at the deserted beach, he frowned.

"Is it usually this empty?" He asked, getting out of the car.

"People don't usually come to this part of the beach. It's a spot that Lindsey found, really." Catherine replied, opening the trunk door. She drew out a couple of bags, and a parasol. Gil carried the bags and Lindsey the parasol. They walked away from the car which seemed to say farewell to them with a short beep.

It was an absolutely stunning day; the sky was so blue almost to the point of taking on a turquoise colour, and there was not a doubt of oncoming clouds. He thought that they had chosen, he hated to say, the perfect day to be here. He put his shades on, and followed the two ladies down on to the already warm sand. Although he didn't exactly want to, he knew he would have to swim in the ocean; not because they would force him to, but the sand would be too darn hot for him to sit or lie on.

After setting up their rendezvous point marked with a parasol on an otherwise barren beach, they laid down on the towels.

"I don't really want to swim." Lindsey said, rummaging in her bag for a magazine.

"Oh come on, Linds. It's not often you get to come to the beach with Gil." Catherine told her, also reaching for sunscreen.

"I know, but I'd rather tan and watch you two."

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" Catherine asked, squeezing out white sunscreen onto her palm. "Hey, if I'm swimming, you're swimming."

"Fine." Lindsey sighed as she got her share of sunscreen. Gil sat there, watching them talk while he felt the sunlight permeate his white polo shirt. Catherine was wearing a long skirt underneath which she wore her bathing suit and her outfit was mirrored by Lindsey. They both took off their skirts at the same time to rub on the sunscreen. The process was almost mechanical; the right leg, the left leg, the arms, and then their shoulders.

"Hey, take off your shirt." Catherine said, opening the bottle again.

"Take it off. Take it off." Lindsey chanted, laughing. Gil sighed as he quickly rid himself of his shirt, drawing an exclamation from Lindsey and willingly accepted the sunscreen with his palms. He rubbed the sunscreen onto his legs, his torso and he stretched to reach his back.

"Here, let me. No one can do reach their backs, not even you." Catherine told him, taking the bottle from his hand. Lindsey was rubbing sunscreen onto Catherine's back, and Gil nodded, letting her rub sunscreen onto his back. She massaged his muscles while she was at it, and he couldn't help let out a sigh of release. "Your muscles are tense. They might be causing your migraines you know." He chuckled, realizing she really did know too much about him.

Her smack on his back drove him back to reality. "There we go. All done." Gil silently thanked her and turned to Lindsey.

"Ready?" Gil looked at Lindsey, and Lindsey gave him a knowing and a somewhat sympathetic look as she nodded, and he smiled for her.

---------------------------------

The water felt cool to his skin. As he waded his way through, he felt himself sink into the sand bit by bit and he enjoyed the therapeutic effect it was having on his feet. He sank into the water; feeling it overcome his body and hearing the world turn silent around him. He couldn't hear Lindsey's laughter, Catherine's giggles, or the sound of the waves hitting the shoreline. He closed his eyes, enjoying the experience as he felt all the tension float out of his body. He remained submerged for a while, letting go of his body, and letting it slowly rise to the surface and remaining there, devoid of any control. He emerged, running his hand through his hair and turning towards Catherine. He watched as Catherine stood up to come join him. When she came into his range, he splashed with all his might, causing her to shriek and take a few steps back. He laughed.

"Gil Grissom! I thought you knew better than that!" Catherine shot back, making him scoff.

"Come on, Cath. I can never be too old for that." He replied, crossing his arms. He squinted his eyes and to Catherine's shock, he emerged from the water, running for her.

"Don't you dare!" She shouted, but she was too late as he lifted her up onto his shoulders. She screamed, but was met with laughter from Lindsey. Gil turned to Lindsey who gave him a thumbs-up and a wink. He smiled and bit his lip as he ran towards the water. "Gil GRISSOM!"

They plunged into the water together with a splash. He still held her, but held her under the water, and laughed as he felt her squirm underneath his hold around her waist. They both emerged together, gasping for oxygen. Catherine's hair was still perfectly in a bun, and she put her arms around his neck, hanging on to him.

"Jesus Christ, Gil! Don't do that!" She shouted and gave him a slap on his chest. He felt her handprint burn itself onto his muscles, but smiled as he cringed. As she started to untangle herself, he still held onto her waist, and their eyes met for what felt like a very long second. They were both out of breath, and Gil gulped. Her face was dangerously close to his, and their bodies were flush against each other. He wasn't sure if the water was helping or not. She then hurriedly let go of him and slapped him again.

"Ow!" He complained as he put his hands defensively on his chest.

"You deserve it." She stuck her tongue out as she tried to redo her hair. He looked at her, without knowing he was, and when she stared back at him, he was startled into reality and blinked. Not knowing what to do, he ran back onto the beach and before Lindsey could scream for help, he had picked her up as well, and ran into the water just as he had with Catherine. Lindsey was screaming and splashing as she slapped Gil, and the occasional protests of pain from Gil echoed in the air.

----------------------------------------

Gil found himself loving the soft relief of the sand. He lay on the towel prepared for him, and proceeded to do what was now called sun-bathing. He put on more sunscreen and just lay under the unusually hot September sun, sighing to himself as he relished the feeling of heat.

Catherine and Lindsey also lay beside him, their hats placed on their faces, and their bodies stretched out on the sand, deserving the attention the sun was paying them. They were all exhausted from fooling around in the ocean, and were about ready to call it a day when it started to get darker. When Catherine looked over at Gil, he was dozing off.

"Gil? Earth to Gil." She nudged him, and he woke with a start. "Hey sleepy."

"Hrm? Oh hey…I must have dozed off. I'm quite exhausted. I mean…I think that's the most exercise I've gotten in a year." He replied, setting his head back on the sand.

"You better believe it. But it's time to go back. It's starting to get darker." She told him, as Lindsey started to pack things up.

"You're driving right?" He asked as his eyes stayed closed.

"Unfortunately." She replied, yawning. "Come on, Gil. We better get back. You have to pack for tomorrow, right?"

Gil had forgotten about his life: where it was, what it was, and how it was. He sighed as he thought about having to pack what little clothes he had brought with him, and spend his last night in the what would now seem an all too empty hotel room.

"Right. Pack. For tomorrow."

-----------------------------------

"Today was amazing. Thank you so much." Gil told her, as she parked her car in front of his hotel. She opened the trunk, and got out of the car to help him unload all his shopping bags. She smiled.

"It was my pleasure. I wanted to have fun as much as you needed it." She replied, giving him a wink. "So…I'll be here tomorrow morning to pick you up."

"Oh no, Catherine. You don't have to do that." He told her, as he groaned. "You have work, and…"

"Work can wait, Gil. You can't. Just let me take you to the airport. It's the least I can do." She told him as she put her hand on his shoulder and slid it down as she went to step back into her car. He could only nod before she flashed him a smile and drove away. He stood in front of the main doors, chuckling to himself as the bellboys took his shopping bags up to his room.


	18. Chapter 17 :: Adieu

Catherine Willows. In the confined spaces of the car, in the eyes of Gil Grissom, in the eyes of unknowing by-passers, she was somehow exquisite, radiant, and beautiful. What was she to him? What made him feel with all his being, yearn with all his might to the point of physical frustration? What caused this strange, unknown ache in the pit of his chest sometimes that he had to pause, take a break in the middle of a stride, an action which in the end became inconsequential? These were questions he could not afford to ask, questions to which he already knew the unmentionable, unthinkable answer. He was aware of every little thing he felt for her with an intrigued detachment. He was doing what he loved to do; he was observing his own behaviour, calculating and rationalizing every nerve transmission from his heart to his brain. He was strangely new to himself, strangely unpredictable. He could not recognize this Gil Grissom whom he thought he had grown out during the years without.

Goodbye. Goodbye was something he could never utter without breaking a sweat. It frightened him with its decisiveness, its connotation of termination. Even if it wasn't true, "see you later" sounded more hopeful, more optimistic about his relationship with the other and allowed him, for a split second, to pretend that the world was good, and that no coincidences, no accidents ever got in the way of his life. But he decided that pretending would have to become reality with this woman; he would definitely not allow accidents to get in the way of his relationship with her because he was utterly devoted. He was devoted to Catherine Willows.

There they were. At the airport. She was dropping him off. They blended into the crowd, undistinguishable from the flurry of travellers heading towards their respective gates. Neither of them knew what to do; was she to leave then and there, leaving behind words of promises that were hoped to be kept, words of farewell?

Call me. Keep in touch. I'll see you soon. I hope to hear from you. It was nice getting reacquainted. Every possible accommodating phrase for moments that necessitated a parting of ways ran through his head, but he could not bring himself to settle on one that would express what he felt adequately, what would allow her to understand. Goodbye.

They stood, amusingly looking into each other's eyes, seeing an affirmation of what they had experienced, sensed, silently acknowledged in the past couple of days, the past couple of priceless days for Gil Grissom. She stepped towards him, opened her arms and embraced him as he stepped forward. They held each other. The gesture that told those who were merely watching, observing, that the two had a history, a mutual devotion that need not be verbally acknowledged.

"I'm going to miss you." Catherine tells him, as she laughs.

"Me too. Me too." He merely concurs, nodding his head and drawing her closer to him. He knew that this would be the last time he would be able to be with Catherine in such a manner, and he relished it. He drew in her scent and memorized it so that he would be able to recall it when he needed to, when he was desperate. As they drew apart, she placed a lingering kiss on his cheek.

"You have to remember to call me regularly. I don't think I can do without this anymore." She demanded as she gestured at the coldly empty space between them. "No more I-was-busy excuses, Gil. I want to keep this going."

"Don't worry. I'll miss this between us more than you ever would. Believe me. If I can't call, I'll send you a postcard or something. Speaking of which…I should be expecting one from you pretty soon." He told her, as he looked at her with raised eyebrows. She blushed, and ruffled her hair. She had no idea. No idea about how much it pained him personally to utter those words that made her blush. He hoped to keep it a secret, keep it to himself as long as his sanity could take it.

"Maybe. Maybe." She touched his arm as she took steps backwards. "Call me when you get home?"

"I promise." He wanted to reach out and grab her hand, to prevent her from going anywhere out of his sight. But he could not, he fully well knew; all he could do was watch her walk away.

"Bye, Gil." She uttered painfully, and he saw a hint of tears in her eyes, and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to call her name, and yell out to her that at that moment, his heart beat solely for her.

"Bye, Catherine." He whispered and she quickly walked away from him, not looking back, her right sleeve going up to her face to furiously wipe away the unexplained tears of a bittersweet farewell.


	19. Chapter 18 :: Coming Home

"Welcome back Griss."

Gil looked up from his box of things, and saw Warrick standing in the doorway, both hands in his pocket, leaning.

"Thank you, Warrick. Been taking care of things, I hope?"

"Of course. I knew what would happen if I didn't." Warrick slowly made his way to the chair and plopped himself into it, sighing as he sat down. "How was everything?"

"You know what I'm going to say, don't you?" Gil asked, giving him a knowing look. This time, Gil wasn't so afraid that someone might know that much about him.

"It was different?"

"Precisely." Gil gave him a thumbs-up and shoved more paperwork onto his desk from his cardboard box.

"Man, I'm just glad you got some air. You've been spending too much time at the lab lately." Warrick has been too attentive.

"Well, my work consumes me. Doesn't yours?" Gil throws the question out there, knowing that even Warrick cannot come back with a witty reply. Warrick simply nods.

"How's Catherine doing?" His first concern had always been Catherine, and it was nice to know some things hadn't changed.

"She's…very well."

"You sound almost envious."

"I am." He looks at Warrick with a bitter smile. "She's engaged, by the way." Warrick opens his mouth, as if to receive the information and digest it slowly, understanding Gil's position. Warrick nods again.

"Well it's about time. Who's the guy?"

"The director at Seattle PD. Ian Gates. Great guy." Gil replies, without a tinge of regret in his voice. His face does not betray him either. Warrick's eyebrow goes up.

"That's great. She deserves it, you know?" At this moment, Gil Grissom wishes that Warrick had been her best friend all along; he would have treated her better than Gil could ever have.

"For sure, for sure." Grissom replies, and Warrick gets up with a knowing smile.

"And you, Griss?" He asks before leaving, "How are you doing?" It takes a while for Gil to process the information coming to his brain from his body, and assesses the situation.

"Lost."

The first time in a year. He made a right turn onto Las Vegas Boulevard.

He relished the bright lights. For some reason, it was as if he had been addicted to this brightness and his eyes had been suffering the entire time he was in Seattle. They were begging for more illumination, more colour, more neon. He knew it would take him double the time to reach home with the traffic on the Strip. But he was in no rush.

The fountain at the Bellagio just started going off, and he only noticed it with the number of people gathered around it. He saw the rollercoaster, Manhattan Express, still running. He fought the urge to drop it all and go on another ride. He still saw men handing out cards, wearing shirts that say something about girls and how they led others. He never looked closely enough to know what they said, he never stopped to take a card. He did notice the garbage though, that almost seemed to float by the sidewalk. He tried to ignore it; it was too late to do anything about it now.

The City of Entertainment: MGM Grand. He stared at the radiating green of the building, and did feel slightly more relaxed, somehow more reminiscent. He was nearing the end of the strip, and thought he could hear the Las Vegas Monorail whish by somewhere. He shook his head and quickly drove home, his brain full of images and memories.

When Gil turned the key in its lock this time, the echo was all too loud for his ears and he frowned. He opened the door, and for him, it was all too familiar and a little bit too much for him to take all at once. One thing was different: the townhouse was clean. Gil made his way through the house, dragging his luggage, and found a note on the kitchen counter.

_Grissom._

_Don't worry. I didn't tell Sara anything. _

_And the townhouse? Just thought I'd do something nice. You are my boss after all. _

_Welcome back._

_- Greg_

_P.S. So how about that raise we've been talking about? Cheers._

Gil smiled, and made a note to himself that he should call Greg too, to thank him. But Gil immediately went for the phone and dialed in an unfamiliar number.

"Hello?"

"Lindsey? It's Grissom."

"Oh my God! I cannot believe you called!" Lindsey sounded almost too unbelieving.

"Hey, that hurts you know."

"Well what do you expect?" Lindsey told him, and it sounded like she was sitting down, getting comfortable.

"I know, I'm sorry. But I promise to call a lot more often from now on, okay?"

"Yes, Uncle Gil." Lindsey replied, and Gil laughed, remembering how little Lindsey had been when she first called him 'Uncle Gil'. "How….how are you doing?" He knew what Lindsey was referring to.

"I'm…hanging in there. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, Lindsey."

"Ok. Do you want to talk to mom?"

"Yes please."

"Well just…take care of yourself and I'll talk to you soon?"

"Of course." Gil laughed and waited.

"Hello? Gil?"

"Catherine. Hey."

"Wow. You really did call."

"I'll never live that down, will I?"

"Not unless you call us everyday." Catherine joked, and Gil chuckled. "How was your flight?"

"Too boring without you guys. Came back home and thought it was all too empty." Gil replied frankly, and heard Catherine laughing on the other end.

"Well, get yourself a nice girlfriend and she'll fill it for you." Catherine told him, and Gil chuckled again. "Or just give Greg a call. He'll do that for you too."

"Looks like he already did a nice job with the place. It's...cleaner." He told her, opening the refrigerator.

"Cleaner? How can it be any cleaner than your meticulous?" Catherine asked, laughing. Gil cleared his throat and managed a few chuckles before he opened a can of beer. "Is that the sound of a beer can being opened, Gil?"

"Why yes, it is. You must be an expert, Catherine."

"I'm very familiar with the sound unfortunately." She replied. Gil realized that although they were making simple small talk, the traces of a smile never left his face.

"How are you doing? Miss me?" Gil asked, taking a sip from the can and sitting on his sofa that gave a loud groan.

"Very. Just as I get over you, you come back here and leave me again. It's really unfair of you."

"Well, you shouldn't be one to talk. I didn't even get over you when I went over there." He told her, and although it sounded ridiculous even to him, he could feel Catherine's tension seeping through the phone.

"Well…get some sleep before you go to work." She told him, quickly changing the subject. He nodded.

"Whatever you say. I'll talk to you soon, Catherine."

"Ok. Hope you call me in less than a year." He laughed.

"I will."

"Bye, Gil."

"Love you." He said, and pressed the 'End' on the phone. He paused, realizing what he had just said and envisioning her perplexed look and smiling to himself.


	20. Chapter 19 :: Above Ground

Gil woke with a start, hearing his phone ring loudly between the walls of the cramped office. He took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes as he answered his manila-coloured phone, stained with what looked like dirt. How hygienic.

"Hello?"

"Grissom. Got something you need to take a look at. 2387 Tropicana." Brass. He always chose the worst times to call about a new case.

"What's so important?" Grissom asked, feeling slightly irritated that his moment of peace was broken so harshly. Normally, he wouldn't have asked another word, but would head out to the scene and do his job, a complaint never leaving his lips.

"Bugs. What else?" Grissom frowned. Bugs, bugs, bugs. That's all they ever told him. He knew others did not think that he knew anything outside of the insect world, when he really knew…or wanted to know many things.

"I'll be right there." Grissom hung up the phone, and grabbed his jacket. Just then, Nick walked into the room.

"Hey boss, got a minute?"

"Um…No. Brass called me about a new case. Gotta check out the bugs." He told him, grabbing his glasses.

"Oh. Well I need to talk to you." Nick seemed anxious, and Grissom was slightly concerned.

"Then grab your kit and meet me at my car in 5 minutes." Grissom ordered him, and led Nick out of his office, closing the door behind him. He saw Nick dart off towards the locker room, and went out the door towards his Tahoe. He opened the front door, turned on the engine, and felt the heating he had left on at the beginning of shift suddenly turn on. He turned it down, and Nick got into the seat next to him. "What is it Nick?" Grissom asked, as he started to pull out of the parking lot.

"I don't know how to start telling you this." Nick told him, fidgeting with his fingers. This was not the Nick whom Gil had gotten to know over the years.

"Well, we'll see." Grissom told him, and waited for Nick to start himself.

"I…uh…" Nick faltered, and Grissom sighed.

"Look, Nick. You know you can tell me anything. Don't worry. Just let it out." Grissom reassured him. He heard Nick sigh, and Gil thought he heard him tremble. It was a while before Nick actually spoke out.

"I…I have cancer."

Gil hit the brakes hard, and he was glad there weren't many cars on the road at 3am.

"What?" Gil asked, his eyes still on the steering wheel, after a pause.

"I have…testicular cancer." Nick told him, sighing. Gil felt the right side of his head go numb, as if it refused to process the information which his right ear just received. "But…thankfully, it was early enough that it's not fatal…yet." Gil gulped and put his shaking hands back on the steering wheel, and managed to pull over to the nearest curb.

"When…did you find out?" Gil asked, looking at Nick.

"Two days ago. And yes, I've told my parents." Nick replied, looking slightly relieved now.

"Well…I…I'm really sorry, Nick." Gil told him, for a lack of better, more reassuring, more endearing remarks.

"It's okay. I'm just glad I found it in the early stages. It's very treatable, or so the doctor told me." Nick replied, and attempted a chuckle, which went flat.

"What can I do?" Gil asked, sincere.

"Not much. Just…don't tell the guys, okay?" Nick asked him, and for the first time in a long time, Gil suppressed the urge to scream. "I'll break it to them if I have to."

"Do you need time off?"

"I might…for ther…therapy." Nick stuttered, and sighed, trying to hold back the tears that threatened his eyes. Gil looked at Nick, and he cursed the fact that he knew he couldn't focus on the case at hand with such heavy news. Gil grabbed Nick's hand, and gave it a reassuring squeeze, and Nick laughed. "Thanks, Gris. You holding hands…means a lot to me." Gil smiled, and got up the courage to start the car again. They only had to drive a little bit more before they got to the location. They both got out of the car and headed towards the crime scene.

**A month later…**

"He has what?!"

"Testicular cancer. I know, it's…it's so unexpected."

For the first time in his life, Gil Grissom bit his thumbnail, while holding the phone to his ear with the other hand.

"I've known for a while, but he didn't want me to tell anyone, and I had to keep it quiet. But...he told the team today because he's going into surgery soon. Looks like the cancer isn't coming under control as well as they'd hoped."

"Oh my God, I can't believe it…Nick….I just can't…" Catherine's sentence faded off somewhere between Seattle and Las Vegas. "He didn't sound like he had any bad news when I talked to him a couple weeks ago…What's he going to do?"

"He's going to get the surgery. He doesn't have any other option." He told her, sighing for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. "This one's too close to home, Cath, I don't know what to do." He confessed, rubbing his forehead.

"I think I should be there, Gil. I want to be with Nick." She sounded exasperated. "And I'm worried about you too."

"Well….you could come. I'm sure he'd appreciate it. I'd do anything to help Nick, you know that. I'm just….I don't think he's willing to accept that help." He realized that Catherine's exasperation had been contagious. He felt the similar knot in his chest.

"He's a big boy and he thinks he can take care of himself. Much like you."

"That's because I can."

"Ha. Right." Catherine joked, and Gil was glad this conversation was taking a slightly more cheerful turn. "You know what, I think I'm going to go over there. My vacation's coming up anyway."

"But…the AD and the director leaving the lab at once? People are going to think…"

"I know what people are going to think. That's why Ian's going to stay. I'll just be over there for two days, maximum. I'm just going to see Nick."

"You don't miss me?" Gil asked, pouting his lip automatically.

"Sure. That too." She chuckled. "I'm going to book a flight now. Don't tell anyone. I want it to be a surprise."

"When will you be here?"

"I want to be there as soon as possible. When's his surgery?"

"It's in two days. I guess they thought it was really urgent." He replied, and heard her whimper. "Don't worry, it'll all be okay."

"I'll be there tomorrow, then."

"Call me when you've booked your flight?"

-------------------

He felt right at ease with her back in his arms, at the airport once again. He could feel her shiver and tense at the thought of Nick again, he knew.

"Hello." The memory of Goodbye flashed before his eyes, and he realized he had never appreciated the word. Hello. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Well, I think I would be too but under the circumstances, it's…" Her sentence faded again, but he knew what she was trying to say. "How have you been?" They finally broke the embrace.

"You know how I've been. I've had to report to you everyday, remember?"

"Right. Nothing you're leaving out?" She asked, and Gil couldn't think of anything on the spot.

"Don't think so. You can call me on something else if you find anything though."

"I'll be sure to do that."


	21. Chapter 20 :: Here For You

The room fell into silence when she knocked on the door.

"Catherine? Oh my God! You came!" Greg was the first to break the ice, and hop along to give her a huge Sanders-trademark hug. "I haven't seen you in….in….too long, can I just say that? I mean…you're…you're…" Greg paused, taking a deep breath, but not breaking eye contact with her once. "You're really here."

"Greg, I've missed you." She drew him back into a hug, and laughed while others stared on. A grin broke out on Warrick's face. He stepped towards her, awaiting his turn. Catherine looked at him and sighed, "God…it's been forever."

"You can just call me Warrick." He gave her a wink and she came hopping into his arms. He laughed, and he closed his eyes, savouring the brief hiatus from the heavy atmosphere of the situation. "I don't know if I've forgiven you yet, Catherine."

"I know. I don't think I've forgiven myself completely either." She told him, and looked at Gil, who was intently staring at her. Gil merely showed traces of what looked like a smile, and looked away towards the window. Warrick and Catherine broke. Sara had not yet arrived at the hospital. Jim was looking at her with an open mouth. Catherine grinned.

He nodded to her as he stepped towards her, and held out his hand. "Catherine Willows?"

"Yes. I believe you are…Captain James Brass?" She shook it.

"Wouldn't you know it." Then he drew her into his arms. "You look fantastic."

"Thank you Jim." They shared a few laughs. "I missed you too, you know."

"Well at least I called you once. It's not so bad." He told her, making her laugh. He let go of her, sensing her relax. Catherine stepped towards Nick, who had a huge grin. "Nick…"

"I'm really glad you're here, Catherine. It feels like everything's all right again."

Catherine broke out in tears as she leant over the bed and hugged Nick with all her might. Nick held her to him, just laughing.

"I forgave you a long time ago, you know that, right?"

"You're the only one, Nick, you're the only one." She replied, her face still buried in his chest. She sniffled and drew back to look at his face. He didn't look like Nick. "What have you done with the Nick I knew?"

"He'll be back. He's just taking a little break." Catherine laughed and gave Nick a big kiss on his cheek. "I'm okay, Catherine. I'll be fine."

"You better be. Otherwise, it's my turn to be mad."

"Nick?" It was Sara. When Sara saw that Catherine was there, she smiled but looked right at Gil, who was just turning around from his position by the window. "Catherine?"

"Sara…." Catherine stepped towards her and gave her a big hug. "I know we've never been friends, but I've still missed you." Sara's face relaxed and softened. "How have you been?"

"I've been all right." Sara looked at Grissom, perplexed. He simply stared on. "I guess you came to see Nick."

"Well, I guess you could say that he was the excuse I needed to see all of you guys again." She whispered.

"Hey, I heard that!" Nick called from his bed. Catherine smiled and shook her head.

"Hey, Grissom? I'm going home to grab something to eat, you want anything of yours?" Sara asked. The entire room froze. Jim's face met his palm slowly. Catherine's head rose slowly, with a frown on her face and her eyes relaxed slightly after a moment. Her mouth opened to say something.

"No…I'm…I'm all right Sara." Gil replied, his voice slightly strained and closed his eyes, to prepare himself. He hadn't realized he never told Catherine about him. Him and Sara.

"All right. I'll be back later." She walked out of the room. Warrick looked at Catherine and stood up. He knew she was shocked, looking at her stunned expression. He figured Grissom hadn't broken it to her yet. He knew that when he did, she'd be out of the room in the blink of an eye.

"Hey Jim, Greggo, you look like you're about to topple over, let's get some fresh air." Warrick poked Greg, who looked at Catherine, then at Grissom, then at Warrick who raised his eyebrows. Greg formed a silent "oh" with his mouth and promptly got up.

"Okay. Sure." They walked out of the room hurriedly, closing the door. Nick was dozing off.

"Did I hear Sara right? Something of yours in her house?"

"Catherine…I…" Gil started, but couldn't finish. She didn't stop him, she didn't question him, at least not verbally. "I had forgotten that I failed to tell you this." She scoffed.

"Are you kidding me?" She didn't raise her voice, and it only scared Gil more.

"No, I'm being honest. And I would have told you if I remembered, you know it."

"Do I really, Gil? What do I have to go on here? Hmm…let's see…not a whole lot." Catherine wasn't looking at him. "How long?"

"…about a month after you left." He replied, and frowned upon seeing her turn around in a flurry.

"You asked her out the minute I left? What, were you replacing me for someone else?" She was angry. He wasn't ready, wasn't prepared. "You just lost your right hand so you wanted to get a substitute? Was that all I was to you? Someone who'd help with your paperwork?"

"No…it wasn't like that…"

"Or was it that you wanted to simply _jeopardize the integrity of the lab?" _She asked, and Grissom winced from the bitterness dripping from what were his own words. "Look...obviously you're not ready for this right now." She turned around and, seeing Nick fast asleep, she sighed. She walked out of the room, in a hurry. "Don't come out."

Gil stayed.

Seeing Catherine close the door behind her, Greg and Warrick stepped towards her. Jim had complained of a headache and went outside.

"Catherine…"

"I can't believe him." She started, ruffling her hair. Warrick knew Greg did not miss the glitter of her ring. "After all we've been through…especially recently…I thought he would finally be my friend again."

"I'm…I know this doesn't mean much, but…I'm with Griss."

"What?" Catherine unhappy. That never meant well for anyone, but Warrick pushed on.

"I don't know if I'm allowed to tell you this, because obviously it was something Grissom wanted to keep secret from you but…you should have seen the way he was living, Catherine. He was…let's just say he wasn't Grissom ever since you left." Warrick told her, and Greg sighed.

"How do you mean?" Catherine's expression softened.

"He was…at the lab 24/7, he sometimes didn't even go home. He pulled doubles, triples, quadruples. The lab became his life. I mean…obviously Sara was with him, but even she couldn't keep up with him sometimes. His office…was messy. His hair was messy…He was a mess." Warrick continued, watching Catherine's expression change from surprise to sympathy to guilt. "And I guessed it was because he never got over you…leaving like that." Catherine looked at her toes, and looked back towards the room.

"So you think he didn't tell me because…?"

"Because he just didn't feel it was worth mentioning, I guess. I mean…no offense to Sara or anything." He told her, and Greg shuffled his feet. "Right, Greg?"

"Oh. Yeah. Um..I don't know if I'm supposed to say this either, and you can't tell him I told you but…you should have seen his house, Catherine. I can tell you, it was worse than the man." Greg doubted Catherine heard the rest of his sentence, because she walked back into the room in a hurry. Greg looked at Warrick, who smiled. 


	22. Chapter 21 :: Anything

He would have done anything. Anything to get her back in the room, anything to allow himself to explain to her why he hadn't mentioned the things he had never thought of telling her.

Anything to allow her to understand that he would do whatever it took to repair their friendship, whatever it took to have her be his one more time.

Anything to see her happy.

And if that anything meant that he had to listen to her, he would do it. He usually did, anyway.

If that anything meant that he had to stay in the room while she went out of the room, out of his reach, he would do it, no matter how much it pained him physically and mentally although when it did, it was usually debilitating.

If that anything meant that he was unhappy, he would do it. In the blink of an eye.

And when she walked back into the room, he was hers, he was at her disposal, and at her mercy.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I was so caught up." He replied, his voice giving up on him.

"Don't give me the 'I was busy with work' crap, Gil!"

"It's not. I was so caught up with just seeing you again, just being able to talk to you and make eye contact with you. I was so caught up with the fact that you were in my life again, and I was so caught up in making sure you stayed there." He threw his statement at her underhandedly, and she simply stared at it. "I was caught up with trying to keep myself in check, busy trying to hold myself back from pinching myself, wondering if it was all a dream. Because, frankly, I didn't think I deserved a second chance."

He was replied with a mouth, slightly ajar.

"That's really all I had to think about when I was talking to you, Catherine. My life flew from my mind when I heard your voice on the phone. It's still unnerving for me, you know…after not talking to you for a year like that…it was hard for me to adjust to the fact that you were willing to talk to me, and I actually could do that, coherently. I had no time to tell you about what was happening to me. You know why? Because none of it mattered. All that mattered to me in that moment was you, and the presence of your voice in my handset."

"Gil…"

"I was so caught up with the fact that the only prayer I ever made came true."

She was silent, looking at him. He was silent, looking at her.

"What is it going to take to have you forgive me?" He stepped towards her, his hands open towards hers. She looked at his coarse hands, and smiled. She took them willingly, stepping towards him. She didn't know this only broke his heart further. He didn't feel her soft hands touching his, her warmth spreading into his body. He only felt the freezing steel of the ring on her finger.

She looked up at him, and she knew he was sincere. He usually was, anyway.

It didn't take much for her to realize that he had been telling her the truth; he had really been caught up with her. It definitely didn't take much to recognize something resembling pain in his eyes when her left hand met with his.

It surprisingly didn't take much for her to understand that he just might love her.

"Everything."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Guys, go home. You can come back in the morning. Go get some sleep."

Nick was always the one who had looked after them. He was still doing that. With cancer.

"Are you sure, Nicky? I can stay all night here if you want." Catherine took his hand in hers and asked him.

"I'm positive, Cath. Just…get everyone out of here. Besides, I might need a little time on my own before my big day tomorrow." He told her, weakly smiling. She embraced him again, sighing.

"I love you, Nick." She told him and he laughed.

"I love you too, Catherine. Now get everyone out of here."

Before they knew it, they were out of the building and standing in the parking lot.

Gil hated how he couldn't invite her over to his house, ask her to stay in the guest room. He knew she'd refuse.

"Well, I'll see you guys all here. 7, sharp, right?" Warrick asked, taking a step back from the circle of his coworkers, of his friends, of his family. "Be there or be square."

"All right, see you all later." Greg said and walked towards Warrick's car. Gil assumed Warrick would drop Greg off at his house.

"Where are you staying, Catherine?" Gil thanked Jim for breaking the question. He didn't have the courage to ask her, after what had happened today. "Anywhere fancy?"

"Well. I don't really want to be on a vacation in Vegas right now…I'll just feel guilty. I checked in at the Rampart since…I basically get in for free." She smiled slightly.

"Well, if you need anywhere to turn to. My home is your home." Jim told her, making her laugh. "I'm serious."

"I know, Jim. But…are you sure I won't see anyone else there?" She winked at him, poking his ribs. Gil was shocked. Jim seemed to be blushing. Jim simply cleared his throat and moved on.

"I best be off. I'll see you guys in the morning." He quickly walked towards his car, with a backward glance that said everything to Catherine. She called after him.

"Tell Sofia I said hey!" Catherine chuckled. She turned towards Gil and Sara, standing side by side. "I guess I will see you two lovebirds tomorrow morning." Without a wave, she turned around and walked towards her rented Jeep. Gil's heart sank another time.

"How does she know about us?"

"I told her." He replied, turning to walk back towards their car.

"When did you tell her? I thought you saw her briefly and that was it." He realized he hadn't told Sara that they had made up. "Did you two make up?"

"Yeah, we did. It was…basically on the last day, and…yeah." He wished to go no further, and by Sara's lack of a reply, he guessed she didn't either.


	23. Chapter 22 :: His & Hers

She had always known.

She had always known that he'd forget her, that he'd somehow move on much faster than she had; she had always known that he'd find someone else to be his right hand, to help with paperwork and to help with his life. But she had never dreamed that it would have been that easy, that quick for Gil. She had always thought that Gil would be a shell without her. She didn't think he'd find that someone the minute she left. She prayed that the someone may never be Sara.

She wasn't right about that one.

Especially since Gil had been the one who had almost broken down the day she actually told him, telling her that he could change, that he wanted her to stay. She scoffed, and her contempt for his empty words echoed in her empty rented car. She wished Ian was here, here to tell her that Gil was the one in the wrong, that it was Gil's fault that she was now feeling like shit. That she was feeling somewhat remorseful. Maybe if she had stayed, things may have been different. If she had listened to his plea, Sara might have never come into that position, in which Catherine somehow felt that she had a clear stake. But then she remembered his speech about getting caught up with her, and her frown melted into a soft melancholy. She didn't understand. She didn't even want to begin to comprehend why she suddenly got the feeling that he just might love her. Of course he loves me, she thought, trying to console herself. But even her persuasive inner voice couldn't win this fight, as Catherine sighed.

She had so wanted him to ask her to stay at his townhouse and save some money, that he'd cook her breakfast, and that everything could be back to the way it was, even for a couple of days. But she would have had to refuse. She had to refuse because he was already doing that for someone else, and for Gil right now, everything _was_ the way it always had been; it was just that someone else was there instead of herself. She gritted her teeth.

But she knew that Gil saw her the same way. When he was in her home, he probably thought much of the same thoughts. She was bound to someone else, soon for a lifetime, and she was sure that had scared Gil. She didn't even doubt that for a second. She had seen the look on his face before, the face he had when he first walked into her bedroom, when he sat down on her bed. The same look that unknowingly came over his face when she told him that she was leaving him, that he had never been a part of her decision. She knew he had been hesitant to sit on somewhere Ian had righteously claimed, and in that moment, she had felt smug. She knew her hold on him had still been in place, and supposed that he was still at her mercy. But she supposed wrong. There were too many things that she wasn't doing right, and that pissed her off.

As she drove into the hotel parking lot, dimly lit by a few orange bulbs, she let out a frustrated, angry sigh and swerved into an empty spot. She slammed the door shut after getting out and locked the door. She walked, hating the echo of her high heels meeting with cement. She wanted to shut out everything right now, and she didn't know why. She felt betrayed. She felt everything that she certainly shouldn't feel after someone had basically told her that she had been a key part of his life, and that he had been too busy with looking at her to do many other logical things. But she shrugged it off, yet she didn't want to.

She called Ian.

-----------------------------------------------

He had always known.

He had always known that Catherine was not a typical woman, that she was the strongest and the most adaptive creature he had ever met in his entire lifetime. But he had never known that she could be brutal, that she could be so careless about someone's heart, whether it be made out of tin or not. Until his days at Seattle, he had never known that Catherine Willows really did own his soul.

He couldn't understand how she could laugh on the phone with Ian, when he could barely keep himself breathing at times. She did it so effortlessly, yet it took him all his will to go on living, and think that things will brighten up someday. He didn't understand how she could be so happy with her life, when everything he did, he touched, he listened to, he said and knew were awkward, were somehow unfitting for him. He felt _so_ out of place, it was almost impossible. He was even more angered when he remembered her eyes, brimming with tears, and her voice telling him that she didn't know how she had done without him all these years. He had cradled her in his arms after another brutal fight with her ex-husband, just like he had every single day. He honestly couldn't fathom how those same eyes could be looking at someone else and how that same voice would soon be telling someone else, "I do." Especially for Gil, vows meant everything. Vows meant the truth. Had he ever known truth?

Whenever he thought of her, whenever he heard any news of her, the pain in the left side of his chest would gnaw at him yet again. It felt as if a steel weight was sewn into his heart, and it pressed down on his whole form, his back slumping to ease the pain. This was part of the reason why it became so much harder for him to breathe. After coming back from Seattle, it had hurt everyday of the month; it was so painful that he even had to go get it checked with Doc Robbins, only to be told that sometimes even a doctor couldn't understand the matters of the heart, and that in fact Gil was quite healthy for his age. How ironic.

He felt Sara's hand snake on to his knee and give a reassuring squeeze. He smiled faintly as he took her hand with his right hand, his left hand still on the wheel. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that she smiled too, the streetlights bouncing off the raised corners of her lips. They drove in silence the rest of the way to her house, and when they arrived, they sat inside the car for what seemed like eternity.

"Sara…" He started, trying to say something. She did not stop him, but he did. She never asked what he was going to say, and he was very glad she hadn't because he would have been left dumb, unable to say a single thing. He simply wanted to thank her for being there, for being with him through everything, for understanding his history. Or perhaps not understanding, but not enquiring. He wanted to thank her for everything, but for some reason he could not go through with it. He simply obliged her when she exited the car, and he obliged her when she led him into her bed yet again. He knew she needed to escape. He had lost himself in escape too much already that he needed to be found, but decided that he would wait, that he would be patient with time.

The steel cold night called his name.


	24. Chapter 23 :: Inside Out

Catherine shivered. The air conditioning in the hospital waiting room was far too strong, and she hadn't prepared for such an onslaught of freezing air. She tried not to make it too obvious, but she couldn't help as she started to cringe when she felt a whiff of cold air go straight into a nasal cavity. Cold because of the A/C. At least that's what Gil had been telling himself.

He didn't want to be afraid. He knew everything would turn out fine with Nick; it always had. But as he looked at Catherine, shivering under her blazer, he started to get the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach – the same feeling he had when he came across Catherine at the restaurant. He was afraid because he didn't know what would happen.

Jim came to sit down next to Catherine, and handed her a cup of steaming coffee, and Gil smiled. He could always count on Jim to do what he should have done, should be doing. He was glad she was blessed with other great friends, other much better friends than a coward like himself. He couldn't even bring himself to say hello to her that morning, as Sara had been attached to his left hand. He liked to leave the right hand to himself. Just in case she came back to him. But as usual, she didn't. She didn't even notice.

Gil was tapping his foot on the shiny floor, coming into beat with the hum of the air conditioning and he kept looking towards the door through which Nick had gone a few hours ago. He refused to sit; he refused to give in to the idea that it would take that much time. But it did, yet he still did not sit. Sara had gone into work after seeing Nick off, just to get a few cases to work on at the hospital as they had been incredibly backlogged. He didn't blame her or reprimand her for not being here for him. He was just glad someone was staying on top of things.

He certainly wasn't on top of things when Catherine stood up and came running into his arms.

He had told himself that the time at the airport would be the last time, and that Catherine would refuse any physical contact with him after telling her that he was in a relationship. She just hung on to him, shivering. And he just held her, enveloping her form with his jacket. He felt guilty, incredibly guilty because he shouldn't have, yet he was enjoying it. All too much, he thought as he realized his fingers were moving underneath her shirt, probing her hot skin.

"He's stable." That's all any of them needed to hear. Catherine turned around, and gave a sigh of relief, and he felt her control slip from her body, and he held her even tighter, supported her. "You can see him in a couple of hours." Gil didn't hear any of the doctor's words, but just the mere memories of touching her skin with his fingers and the fact that she never even protested.

"Thank you so much, doctor. You have the Crime Lab's thanks and appreciation." Grissom told him, nodding. The doctor smiled and went back through the white swinging doors.

"Whew! That's another life-threatening situation, done and over with. Who's next?" Greg asked, and Warrick punched his arm playfully.

"Keep your mouth shut, Sanders. You're going to jinx us." Greg punched back and Warrick just grinned. Catherine walked out Grissom's arms, going towards the chairs to sit down. Sara arrived. Just in time.

"How's Nick?"

"He's stable." He told her, and she smiled a smile of relief. She handed him the case files, and Gil looked at them, frowning.

"Well, when can we see him?"

"In a couple of hours."

---------------------------------------------------------

She held his hand again, and he smiled.

"When's your flight, Catherine?" Nick asked, just barely out of sleep.

"I'm flying back tonight. I'm sorry I can't stay for longer." She replied, tearing up again.

"Oh no. Don't ever apologize. I'm just grateful you were here for me for that." He said, pointing towards the door. She knew he meant his surgery.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world, Nicky." She told him. "Well, I'm going to go my room and start…packing what little I brought."

"Thanks so much. For being here." Nick told her. Gil was standing at the door, just watching the two of them say farewell. He remembered when she was in his position, and he told her the exact same thing. Catherine Willows was there. For everyone.

"You're very welcome, honey." She kissed his forehead and slowly left the room, turning around to wave at him once more. Gil moved out of her way, closing the door. She stopped in front of him, and he inhaled deeply.

"Don't you have work?" She asked, abruptly breaking the silence between them.

"Yeah, but…I knew your flight was tonight, and…I wanted to say goodbye." He told her honestly, putting his sweaty hands in his pockets. "I would take you to the airport but…"

"That's all right." She refused. "You've got…work. Besides, Jim said he'd drive me."

"I know. I knew you'd refuse. That's why I never asked." He told her, almost in a whisper. This caused Catherine to look at him and their eyes met for what seemed all too short for Gil. "Look, Catherine. I…I really am ready to do everything it takes for you to forgive me about that and I know you still haven't to some extent."

"What are you…" He silenced her with his hand, coming up to block her flow of bitter words.

"Let me finish. Just because…I happen to be in a relationship, which I know you don't approve of, it doesn't...it doesn't mean that I can't still be in…that I can't still be your best friend." He told her, hesitating. "I need you, Catherine. And I know you need me to be there for you just as much."

Catherine was silent. Gil was wondering if this was a wordless affirmation of what he had just said, or if she was thinking up a comeback for what he had just said. Before she could do anything, he stepped forward and gently took her into his arms, his form covering hers once again. He sighed when he felt her relax and felt her hands go up to his shirt collar and hang on to them. When he let out his pent up breath onto her neck, she shivered and sighed. He breathed in her scent, drew her closer one last time and let go, still holding her hands. He shook it, and smiled a secret smile.

"Pleasure to see you again, Catherine."

"It was great to see you too, Gil."


	25. Chapter 24 :: The Cave

"Brass." Although Gil had phoned him, he was startled by his name. Why had he called Jim?

"Hey, it's me." He managed to stutter.

"Grissom? What's up?" Grissom could hear the rev of the car, speeding down the highway. Gil thought he could smell her scent over the phone. Gil paused. "Hello?"

"Oh sorry. I didn't hear what you said."

"I'm on my way to the airport."

"Yeah…" He had nothing to say. Absolutely nothing. He wanted to smack himself for calling, making himself look like a fool. Then he thought he could hear Catherine ask Jim who it was.

"It's Gil." Jim replied, before Gil could say anything and hang up. Gil didn't want to talk to Catherine over the phone.

"Hey, Jim. I just…Never mind. I'll talk to you later." Gil hung up before anything went further.

------------------------

Plato's Cave.

Gil thought he'd never compare himself to one of the prisoners sitting on that bench.

The prisoners on the bench in Plato's cave faced the wall their whole lives. Therefore, their sole reality consisted of themselves, the bench, and the shadows on the wall. Their heads were tied so that they could not turn to look at the others. They had to stay there, motionless, thoughtless.

Gil Grissom's shadow was Catherine Willows.

When she left, leaving him feeling void of emotion, void of purpose, he could no longer function.

He couldn't tell true from false; he couldn't tell real from fantastical.

He sent out the others on the cases, afraid that he may make a critical mistake processing the evidence if he was to go out in this state. His state of lacking everything was not lost on the team members, and they simply felt sorry for him. The team tried to keep it secret from Sara, but she wasn't stupid; she could see everything Grissom was going through, and she simply shrugged it off, hoping this would simply pass in time. She had blind faith in time and Gil.

------------------------

"Grissom?" Sara's voice echoed through out his room, throughout his eardrums, throughout the emptiness where his heart used to be. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm…I'm fine." He replied. He hadn't been off in his own world. He was still here, but Sara knew he didn't want to be here. She sat down in front of him. She would have gotten angry about this; she would have started to go off at him for treating her like a child, for acting as if she was blind to every single expression of grief that passed by his face, by his eyes. But she had no strength to argue, and the strange thing was she couldn't bring herself to scream at Gil. It looked like he was already suffering from something she could not understand. She pitied him.

"Let's head home, call it a night." She told him, fidgeting with her fingers. He looked at her and smiled weakly.

"Yeah, let's." He rose, and grabbed his jacket. Taking some files in his hand, he walked around the desk. Sara stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Gil…"

"Can we just leave it? Can we just…not talk about it?" He asked her, stopping her. He knew what she was going to ask him about, what the sad expression on her face was, and why she wasn't yelling at him. He wanted to be fine. He wanted to be normal, to be the way he was before everything happened, and to be able to gather up the courage to face it. His voice almost broke. "I…I'm trying." That was all he could say. Sara nodded and led the way out of the office slowly, waiting for him patiently when he couldn't bring himself to take his hand off his office doorknob.

She realized he was beyond caring when they walked out, hand in hand.

---------------------

Catherine didn't call that day. Neither did Gil.

The calls didn't occur the day after. Or the day after that. And the day after that.

A series of those led to a month.

Gil believed it was Catherine realizing that she could not call him up at ungodly hours, like she used to. He knew what she would be thinking, talking to him on the phone. The thought of him would probably forever be attached with the image of Sara sitting next to him.

Catherine believed Gil didn't call simply because he knew it wouldn't be the same. She didn't know how he did call her even before she knew about the relationship, but she decided not to ask questions. The thought of her would probably forever be attached with the image of Ian sitting next to her.

They were both attached to other people, and made it that much harder for them to be attached to each other, no matter how much they wanted to be.

Exactly two months from her departure, he was sitting on his porch, sipping ice tea when he heard the mailbox's clang. He stood up, and walked outside and looked. Advertisement, advertisement…letter. Addressed to him and Sara.

From Catherine Willows and Ian Gates.

Gil closed his eyes shut, letting his head fall backwards. He clenched his teeth, but took caution not to ruin the envelope. He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw started to hurt. The familiar pain in his chest registered again, and his right hand subconsciously went up to try to relieve some of what he was going through, but failed. He breathed deeply and headed inside, banging the door behind him. He walked over to his desk, pulled out the letter opener, which he hadn't used since he moved into the townhouse. He cut it carefully, as if he was working with evidence on a case. He pulled out the stiff card inside, and turned it over. He opened it, and saw little writing.

On the right, it read _The Marriage of Catherine Willows and Ian Michael Gates_. Marriage. Gil read the words over and over again, his hands trembling. On the left, it read "_Dear Guest, we would like to invite you to this lovely wedding which will take place December 4__th __at the Rampart Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada_."

Las Vegas? He couldn't understand why she was doing this to him. He wouldn't have dreamt of missing this…or perhaps he may have. He didn't know. He groaned, but stopped when he saw another piece of paper fall out of the envelope. He opened it and smiled. Familiar writing. Beautiful, graceful.

_Gil,_

_Just know that I'm having it in Vegas so you won't give another excuse of work being in your way. But I'm also having it there because that's where my family is, and my friends. Ian really didn't mind. I'm sorry I haven't called. I know you are too._

_Remember when you said you'd do anything and everything?_

_Well this is it, your last chance. You're walking with me._

_I'll be there in two weeks, on November 30__th__. American Airlines, the usual time._

_Love, Catherine._

He folded it up, and put it down gently on his desk. A part of him wanted to rip it apart, but the other part of him wanted to keep it, to cherish it forever. One part of him wanted to avoid it all together, the other part of him knew he had to be there for her.

He was going to have to walk her down the aisle. To send her off. To one Ian Gates.


	26. Chapter 25 :: Pause

The minute Gil walked into the lab, it seemed as if everything froze.

Even the girl at the receptionist desk, the one with the platinum blond hair who used to greet him with the biggest smile he'll ever see, didn't smile that day. She merely stared at him intently as he walked by, cases in hand. He wondered if she had ever been to a funeral.

Even all the lab techs who barely knew him and didn't know Catherine, stopped what they were doing and stared at him.

His team, when he walked into the breakroom with their assignments, stopped abruptly in the middle of a passionate dispute.

He didn't even ask what was going on, knowing full well what the answer was. It was all about him. It was all about Catherine.

With the image of the letter still floating before his eyes, he handed out the two assignments, one breaking and entering, one robbery to Greg and Nick. He didn't tell them what it was, what to do, any sort of advice he had to give to them. He didn't have anything to say. He knew things were all terribly wrong, when even Greg had nothing to say as he walked out the door with his kit clutched in his hands. Nick had merely followed, throwing a brief smile at Gil before walking away. Warrick complained of a headache and left Sara and Gil to sulk in the breakroom. Sara had been informed of the news by Gil himself, who had called her hours after receiving the letter. She had also clenched her teeth, holding herself back from simply yelling at him and telling him to move on, to understand that Catherine would now be bound to someone forever. Someone other than him. She thought that perhaps he couldn't quite come to terms with it, or didn't allow himself to. On the other hand, she needed him to accept it. Desperately.

"We need to talk."

Gil, who had kept his eyes on the floor, finally raised them, in surprise. She frowned. How could he be surprised that she wanted to talk about this? That she wanted to patronize him somehow, for not being able to get over her. Who was this standing in front of her? Sara almost had to cry out; not in frustration, but in feeling pain for him. She could see what he was feeling, what kind of chaos he was finding himself in when she looked in his eyes. The once-shrewd Gil Grissom was dense. Dense to all the world, to all the noise. Dense to the call from within.

"About what?" He asked, his voice raspy.

"About this sulking that has been going on." Sara told him, taking it step by step. He simply sighed and his eyes were back on the floor.

"I thought you said we wouldn't." He looked at her again, and she thought she could lose herself in them forever. But she already knew that someone else possessed that map of the road from his eyes to his heart; she couldn't quite bring herself to articulate the name. "I thought you understood, Sara."

"I don't, Gil. I just don't know what this is about anymore." Sara fell onto the sofa. A silence presided over the space between the couple, and after about 5 minutes, Sara broke the question. "Do you love her?"

The question had been direct. She wasn't curious, as Lindsey had been. She simply wanted to understand what was going through his mind. But Gil, who had never prided himself on being right every time, didn't want to admit to this one. He didn't want to tell the world that he could never understand. Even with the 54 years under his belt. Those years had meant nothing.

He couldn't tell himself that he did love her. Simply because he wasn't allowed to.

He felt Sara's inquisitive stare bore into the crown of his head.

"If only it was that easy." He muttered, not to anyone particular. He guessed that Sara hadn't heard when she simply sighed.

"Gil? Are you going to answer me?"

"I said…" He stopped. He simply looked at her, his look frozen, his mind frozen. He couldn't think, move any part of his body. Sara stood up, and even his eyes refused to move. He was having too many of these moments where he simply stopped, mid-thought.

"What?"

"No."

(_Two Weeks Later)_

He decided that he would have to go. There was absolutely no chance that he would miss her wedding. His best friend's wedding. He wished it was something out of a movie.

He had already gotten numbers out of the Yellow Pages to rent a tux, had already thought about the bouquet of flowers he would give her, had already known that she'd make him "Man of Honor", and had already thought about what he would say to her, just before walking down the aisle. He decided that if he was going to play it cool, he would go all the way. He would let her go without a backward glance. Or so he hoped.

The doorbell rang, and he went to the door. He closed his eyes, picturing the scene at the airport, before opening to door.

"Hey Griss. Ready to go?" Warrick was there, looking more fashionable than usual, if Gil could say something like that. Gil nodded.

Gil almost sprinted to the car, leaving the door open for Sara to close after her. He wanted to avoid this embarrassment. Embarrassment was something he felt every time his team looked at him the way they were just now. He got into the Tahoe as fast as he could, riding shot gun. He didn't take a breath until his seatbelt was fastened securely. Then he let it all out. He was almost sure Greg and Nick could hear his neck muscles trembling.

------------------------------------------------

"Catherine!"

She turned her head, and the smile that lit up her face upon seeing them, simply made his year. She came to them jogging, and Gil noticed that someone else was getting her things for her. She first ran into Nick's arms, who was poised and ready for her embrace. His guttural laugh reached Gil's ears, and Gil had to smile. From then on, all the formalities between Catherine and his team members were lost on him, as the only thing he could stare at was her luggage.

"Gil?" Gil. Who was Gil? That was his name. Gil turned towards Catherine's hand on his arm. "Aren't you going to say hello?"

He looked around them and realized that the team was already taking her stuff to the exit. He nodded.

"Hello, Catherine. It's….it's great to see you." He told her, blinking. She frowned.

"What's wrong, Gil?" She asked, and her hand on his cheek was the last thing he remembered before darkness.


	27. Chapter 26 :: Goodnight, Goodnight

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Was that his pager ringing? Who wanted to wake him up at this ungodly hour while he was enjoying a nice rest? He made an incredible effort to move his hand, and when it swung to the side, it hit something soft and he thought he could hear a yelp.

"Gil?"

He wanted to open his eyes, but they were adamant and would not open. He answered to the voice that kept calling him. The voice sounded both masculine and feminine to his damaged ears and he could not identify the person behind it. The voice seemed omnipotent, if that made any sense, and he almost imagined that perhaps this was God. He vaguely remembered his eyes rolling as his body hit the floor, and now this voice.

"Yes? Who is this?"

"Gil? Gil?" The voice refused to answer his question, but simply kept calling his name. He became so frustrated that he just wanted to explode out of his body. His anger and frustration seemed to be escalating tenfold by the second and he felt as if he couldn't take it anymore. He screamed, and the next thing he knew, his eyes were open, staring at Catherine's face.

"Catherine?" He never recognized his voice, and he almost had to look around to see who was calling her. His voice sounded foreign to him, as if it were another language. He saw tears well up in her eyes.

"Gil…You gave me a good scare." So there was the answer to his question. Catherine was divine.

"What happened?" He asked, still slightly dazed. "Where…"

"You're at Desert Palm and you just fainted at the sight of seeing me, I guess." She chuckled as she sniffled. He smiled weakly. "You haven't been taking care of yourself have you?" He nodded.

"I so have. I went to see Al the other day and he told me I was perfectly healthy. I just…I guess I was light-headed that day?" He told her, reassuring her that it wasn't a problem with his health.

"I think that's a huge understatement." She told him. He briefly smiled and looked around the empty room.

"Where is everyone?"

"I told them all to head off, but Sara's just in the bathroom." He wondered how Catherine had fared off with Sara while he wasn't awake. That was something Gil was half glad he had missed while unconscious. "Well, this is a great start to my wedding."

"I'm so sorry, Catherine. If you had plans…I…You should just leave and do what you need to do and have Sara stay with me." Gil told her, apologetic. But he saw her flinch slightly and realized that she was hurt. "Not that I don't enjoy your company or anything, but…I want what's best. For you."

But the consoling words had no effect since the damage had been done. He sighed and closed his eyes again, knowing he could open them back up when he needed to.

"Gil…"

"Yes?"

"I'm afraid." His eyes flew open again, and he made a successful attempt at sitting up, although she tried to stop him. He wanted to pull off all of the plastic tubes that were now attached to him. "I'm so afraid that this will go wrong, and I…I really can't have that happen this time, Gil."

Any worry about his health, about how he felt and about his life no longer mattered. He reached for her hands.

"Catherine…Can I tell you something?" He asked, and she looked at him. "You always get like this before a big commitment."

She chuckled, as she sniffled and wiped tears from her eyes that were starting to form. She nodded in response.

"I shouldn't be talking about this when you're the one in the hospital." She told him, fidgeting with her hands. His hands, rather.

"No worries. I'm all good now." As he held her hands, he realized that he may never hold her this way again. That in a week's time, she'd be with another man. He knew this. He had known it all along. But now, it hit him like the proverbial ton of bricks. He was looking right into her eyes but didn't realize she was looking right back. This realization of her departure from him, and the realization that he could never live without her, came together and hit him like a bullet.

"Gil? Gil, are you feeling okay?" She asked, putting a hand on his cheek.

"You're….you're really gone." He whispered, and he could feel her muscles tense. He looked at her and shook his head. "I'm fine, Catherine."

Sara walked into an empty room a few minutes later. Her eyebrow shot up, involuntarily. She dug for her cell phone from her jacket pocket, and dialed. But instead of a voice, she heard the ringing coming from the drawer next to bed. She cursed for not getting Catherine's number earlier, and decided that she had a choice. She could look for them, and find them together or she could simply wait for him in the room. The pacifist in her won this fight, and she decided that the best way to avoid any sort of conflict would be to stay. She thought she'd never adhere by the fact that ignorance could sometimes be bliss.


	28. Chapter 27 : Have You Ever Seen the Rain

**Chapter 27:**** Have You Ever Seen the Rain?**

Precipitation was rare enough. Precipitation out of a clear blue sky was a legend.

Grissom had been able to ask for his decent clothes back despite the flood of advice against leaving the hospital. He had had enough. If he was ever going to leave, now would have been the time. With Catherine.

After checking out, they stood in the courtyard beside the hospital without an umbrella. Gil had always liked looking at the cloudless Nevada sky, and Gil had always liked looking at the rain. Together, he could ask for no more. As he stood, feeling his jacket become laden with the essence of life, he thought about the future, about himself, and about the woman holding his right hand.

"Gil?" He shook his head, trying to shake off the water droplets that had been accumulating on his face. He looked at her, seeing a little water dribble off of his hair. "I'm here. I'm still here." He simply smiled at her attempt at comfort. He shook his head again.

"No you're not. You may be here physically, but…" He took her hand and placed it on her heart. "_You_ aren't here." She was left speechless. He could only smile again, bitterly. He turned his attention back to the rain, feeling her grip on his hand slip. At this moment, he couldn't care less if she left him that way, if she turned away and walked back to find herself again. She was dry. She was still sane. But he was brought back down to earth from his ascent by her hand on his heart.

"So are you telling me, I'm not in _here?_" She asked, her eyes boring into his own. He sputtered. This was it. She was asking him if she owned his soul, if he was really indeed at her mercy, and if he could ever live without her. She was asking him if he loved her. He didn't want to tell her; she had no reason to be curious. He stayed silent, just looking at her, seeing the water penetrate her hair. He could feel her fingertips on his skin, on his soaked jacket. Time froze and for that fleeting moment in time, they were one underneath the cold, brutal sun.

"Catherine…" She took her hand off his chest and nodded, dejectedly. He knew what she was thinking. What she assumed to be where her hand had been moments ago. But he couldn't tell her that she was judging him, that she was jumping to conclusions. He couldn't ever tell her that she would be _there_, forever. He wouldn't have been able to hold her back, but he tried and surprisingly succeeded. She looked back at him, squinting to see through the deluge. Without a word of protest from either one of them, he drew her closer to him. No words came out of his mouth.

And with that, he kissed her.

Had God ever seen the rain?

It was everywhere, it was everything, every time.

The heavens unleashed.

-------------------------------------------

He wandered aimlessly, pointlessly, and he wandered for a long time. He felt free.

No one would recognize him. Who would have thought that Gil Grissom would walk without an umbrella in the rain? Who would have thought that he would be out in the desert, without a thing in sight?

Who would have thought that he would fall in love?

Not even himself.

His socks, his shoes, and his pants were ruined, and covered in mud. His jacket was dripping, and his hair was drenched. But his mind was dry. This was the only time his mind was not filled with heavy burdens, the only time his mind was free from obligations, free from responsibilities. Now, he simply longed for a thought to come to his head so that it could fill the emptiness that he felt with all his being. He wanted to drink the rain and fill his body with water, wanted to fill the depths of his soul with life so that perhaps he would become more lively. So that perhaps he may discover purpose. After all, the most important epiphany came out of the blue, and came rapidly.

He knew she had given in. When his lips closed in on hers, she had tensed. But as quickly as she had frozen, she seemed to melt under the rain. When his lips parted to allow his lungs to take in the damp air, her lips parted at the same time and the kiss had deepened as their lips moved together. He had pulled her closer towards him, his wet clothing flush against her body. Her arms had snaked around his neck and her hands were running with the water through his hair. It had been a mad flurry of his hands trying to touch her everywhere and anywhere he could before the moment when the consequences of his actions would hit her eventually. He didn't know how long they had stayed that way, but for him, it could have lasted a lifetime and it could have lasted as long as the blink of an eye. But she eventually broke off hurriedly. He had only held her gaze as she walked away, and when she turned around, she ran off. He knew better than to chase after her.

A smile never left his face.

He wanted to cleanse himself. He desperately wanted each raindrop to carry any memories of his past, and any longings he may have had and drip away from him. He felt like he couldn't carry all that junk around anymore. He wanted to start anew. He wanted to be able to walk down that aisle in three days and kiss her gloved hand, and say with a smile, Goodbye. And he had such confidence in the rain, that he believed he would walk away from this day a new man, and a wise man. He realized that all the knowledge he had gathered from books and experience had never made him wise. He was intelligent, yes. He was brilliant, yes. But he wasn't wise. Now he thought he could get down on his knees and pray to whatever was out there, to give him wisdom. To grant him the power to accept the things he could not change, courage to change the things that he can, and wisdom to know the difference. He felt the familiar words roll off his tongue, and he grinned like a madman. He didn't hear the faint ringing of his phone in his car. He didn't see the name which he called out now on the green screen.

After walking away from his car and into the horizon for what seemed like a year, he dropped to his knees. He felt the rocks and pebbles dig into his skin, and he felt his muscles trying to fend them off. He could see the mud make its way through the fabric of his pants. He smiled at the picture of him kneeling in the middle of the desert taking on a mahogany color, his jacket becoming as black as the abyss. His hair cut short, his glasses trashed somewhere on the ground, his shoes soggy with water. He looked up at the sky once more. Letting go of his last pride, he put his hands together. He hadn't been religious, and he wasn't going to change that now. He wasn't going to turn to the God he had turned away from so long ago. But he was left with no choice. The last thing he hoped to be able to do was perhaps throw a hope out there, and he knew it was out of his hands forever. He felt that he had no control over anything, and this was his last stand.

"Please. Give me the strength and the courage let her go."

His body did not shake, he didn't feel the physical release he hoped to feel, and he knew he was still holding on. He started to chuckle. He broke into a full-fledged laughter, as tears mixed with rain. He heard a deep, rumbling thunder a far ways off, and never saw lightning. He now saw her in front of him, in white. She extended her hand to him, and he reached out to take it but didn't grasp her hand. He drew it back as if it had burned him, and simply stared at her. She looked beautiful, and the only sound that came from him was his breath. When he didn't take her hand, she suddenly disappeared, as if Gil had never seen anything in the first place. He frantically shook his head, and put his hands on the ground.

The desert sand didn't move, but it made a spirited attempt.


	29. Chapter 28 :: The Last Thing

**Chapter 28: ****The Last Thing**

He did call her the next morning, but he hadn't been able to say anything. He only heard her say hello, and he believed she knew that it was him, because she paused after the second hello and he heard her sigh. His heart was bursting with potential phrases that he could free, that he could get off his chest.

"Gil?"

"I'm sorry." That was all he could say, and he heard shuffling over the phone and realized that she was moving away from wherever she was. "I'm sorry, Catherine."

"I…I don't know what that was Gil."

"It was my fault, I…I wasn't in the right mindset. You know me. I wouldn't have done that if I had been thinking straight." It wasn't the fact that she was asking him what he was thinking when he kissed her that depressed him; it was the fact that he had to lie through his teeth when all parts of his system as a human being were telling him otherwise.

"Do I know you? After that, I'm not so sure." She seemed out of breath.

"Look…I called and just wanted to say that you shouldn't pay any mind to what…to what happened earlier today." Gil told her, and he wanted to tell her that he didn't actually love her, but his heart never could. "It…it shouldn't mean anything."

"But did it?" He wished that she wouldn't ask him. He sighed.

"I…I don't know. But Catherine…"

"I love him."

"I never doubted it for a second." And with that he hung up. She never called him back.

--------------------------------------

He thought it was practically over with Sara. He knew she knew that he was in love with Catherine. It never needed to be said aloud, but he hoped Sara knew that he wasn't committed to her. He just couldn't bring himself to call. But he realized he hadn't taken Sara's personality into perspective, when she called him and asked him about his day and made small talk. He answered every question without hesitation but rather with surprise. And she promised to call him later because she was running errands.

He knew that even if he had told her directly, she'd say that she could wait because she believed that Catherine wouldn't turn back and change her mind. Gil was almost angry at her for believing so blindly in Catherine's love, but he knew he was grasping at empty thoughts of hope when he wished perhaps her declaration of love for Ian could have been groundless. He knew that in part he never wanted to be seen near the altar, and now he wondered if Catherine would be so brutal as to really make him walk down the aisle with her. He picked up the phone again.

"Hello?"

"Am I still your best man?" She stayed silent, and he knew she was going through much of the same things he was, sulking at home. A part of him wanted her to say yes, that he was still very much important to her life and that he was the friend she cherished the most; the other part of him wanted her to let him rest, but even then, the whole of him knew he would never be able to rest easily.

"What do you think?"

"I…I'm at your beck and call." He told her, and he heard her whimper. He knew her heart was breaking at the sound of him this way. "Although it's clear that I don't deserve it."

"I…I need you there, Gil. I don't think I could do this without you." She told him, and he sighed.

'You did it well enough without me before.' He thought, bitterly. But he told her that he still would.

"Thank you, Gil. I…I just wanted to tell you that…what happened yesterday…"

"Please, Catherine…you don't have to explain."

"But I just want to tell you…"

"Catherine, please."

"I want to tell you that it meant something to me." His heart skipped a beat.

"What?"

"It…although I really don't want it to…it meant something to me, and…and I don't know what to think of it." She paused, to see if Gil would say anything. "Gil?"

"You can't think of it. You told me you loved him."

"Well then what were you thinking even after I told you I loved him? Why the hell did you kiss me, Gil?" She asked, her frustration obviously bubbling over. He didn't even begin to blame her.

"You know you gave in. Don't even try to deny it, Catherine." When she stopped, he knew he had her. "You needed it too."

"I never needed this! It's…it's just three _days_ away from my _wedding_, Gil. You…Why?"

"Look, Catherine. Hear me out. We…we can't get into this right now."

"Then when is the right time? God Gil, just tell me why!"

"I was stupid." Gil lied through his teeth. "I wasn't thinking properly, okay? If you asked now, I wouldn't do it again." He envisioned himself saying the exact opposite so many times in his dreams but reality was not merciful. The conversation came to an abrupt halt. "Catherine, it doesn't matter what happened yesterday. As far as you're concerned, and as far as I'm concerned for my own well-being, nothing happened yesterday. Nothing that meant anything. It didn't mean anything."

"Gil…did it really mean nothing? Was it really just an impulsive mistake?"

"What do you want me to say Catherine? Do you want to hear from my lips, 'I'm crazy about you, Catherine.'?" He asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could while confessing his heart over the phone.

"No, I want you to tell me the truth." She told him, and he almost thought he could cry out.

"Well that is the truth. It didn't mean anything because it shouldn't."

"So we're just going to pretend?"

"Pretend what?" He asked, knowing Catherine understood his message. She hung up first.

-------------------------------------------------------

Two days before the wedding, when the doorbell rang to his house, Gil Grissom didn't look through the peephole, undid the chains before opening the door and opened it wide, knowing full well who it was going to be. He had just gotten back from work.

"What's this?" It was a slightly angry and shocked Catherine, holding a big ivory box in her hand, unwrapped.

"It's my gift to you. I couldn't find anything blue or whatever it is that I need for you, so that's going to have to do."

"I already have a dress, Gil." He led her into his house as she said this and bolted the door.

"I'm not letting you wear the same one you wore to Eddie's wedding."

"Ian's flying here tomorrow to go shopping with me." She told him this as if she wanted to hurt him. "He was going to buy me a dress."

"But that defeats the purpose doesn't it? He's supposed to be surprised when he sees how beautiful you are walking down the aisle."

"I can't take this." She was stretching the box back to him. "Gil, I can't take this from you."

"It's the last thing I'll ever do for you, Catherine. Just take it. For my sake. Tell him I gave it to you, as a last present." He replied, and she knew he wasn't going to give in.

"Gil.."

"However, I do have one request."

"What is it?"

"I want to make sure you fit in it. Right now." He told her, and seeing the shocked look on her face, he smiled. "Hey, I'm a man. You never know what size I could have picked." He knew he was secretly enjoying himself as he was waiting for the moment when she would walk out In a white dress.

"Not here, Gil."

"Yes here. Where else?"

"I look horrible."

"It doesn't matter how you look. It's just about the size, remember?" She looked at the dress and then back at Gil, who simply nodded his approval and smiled. She sighed and went in the direction of one of the bedrooms. He sat on the sofa and waited for the door to creak open. But after 10 minutes, it didn't. He went to the closed door and knocked.

"Catherine? Are you all right?" He didn't get an answer. "Catherine?" Knowing his job, he started to get worried. "Catherine, I'm coming in."

He opened the door and was not met by empty space or a crime scene. He was blinded by the white dress. He saw her standing in front of a mirror, simply gazing at herself. He could only see the back of the dress.

"Hey. I was starting to get worried. What's wrong?" He saw her turn around, and just as he was about to revel in the beauty of Catherine Willows, he saw that she was crying. "Catherine? What's wrong?"

"Gil…"

"Are you suffocating? What?"

"Gil it's perfect." Then Gil was able to worship how heavenly she looked in white, and realized that it had been the same vision he saw out in the desert. It wasn't one of those puffed-out dresses, but it was form fitting and only fanning out at the very end. He smiled as he sighed and shook his head.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

"Can you wait outside for just a minute? I'm going to change out of this so I don't ruin it." He turned around and went outside. Catherine kept her word and was out of the room in about a minute. She opened the door and walked up to him slowly, not stopping until she was a hair away from his face. "Gil."

"I'm glad you like it." Their breaths were mingling and forming a new kind of air.

"I could only dream about a dress like that." She told him, fingering the fabric of his dress shirt. "Thank you." He took her hand in his right and brought it up to his lips slowly, not breaking eye contact as he kissed her fingers.

"You're welcome."


	30. Chapter 29 :: D2

**Chapter 29:**** D-2**

She looked at him with unmoving eyes and he could see the determination instilled within them. The determination he had so required from her when they were watching a scene, solving a case, and testifying for a trial. But it was the last thing that he wanted from her at this moment. For him, she had already said the words she was about to say, just with the look.

"I can wait."

Grissom closed his eyes, sighing in frustration that his prediction had come true. He couldn't possibly think of logical reasons that would persuade her otherwise. He wanted to whimper, wanted to beg her to let him go, and live her life again. He still cared about her and didn't want to be the obstacle in her way, nor did he want to bear the responsibility of trying to take care of another person's life while he was having such problems with his own. Despite the circumstances, he half-wished that he could be having such a conversation with Catherine and he pursed his lips together.

"Please, Sara. I know you can, but I don't want you to. I know Catherine's not going to turn back and you're thinking that I want her to come to me or something like that but I don't want that. I just want to be able to watch her from a distance and live vicariously through that. I…"

"Why are you being so stubborn? Why can't you just let me do what I want to do?"

"I'm being stubborn? I want you to live your life, Sara. You're still young, you still have more than half your life to live and I really want you to let me be this way. I don't want to drag you down with me."

"But I want you to! I don't care if I'm dragged down, Grissom. Don't you understand?" He understood all too well, but he wondered if Catherine understood. He didn't care if he'd have to live alone his whole life. Frankly, he didn't know what he wanted from her. "Don't you understand the concept of commitment? The concept of love?"

"What do I have to do, to get you to move on?"

"You can't! What do I have to do, to get you to move on?"

"I won't." He replied, solidly.

"You can't keep chasing after a ship that's sailed, Grissom! What does that make me? You're just making a fool out of both of us just because you had to secretly love a married woman, who is absolutely clueless about all this?"

"And she should remain that way. I'm never going to tell her."

"That's not true. You can't go on living like this. I'm not even saying this as your partner anymore. I'm telling you this as a friend and a fellow human being who has felt much the same emotions."

"I don't care how I feel! I don't care about how I live, Sara. No matter how much I want to deny it, she changed my life. She has made me the man you know today. I just can't help it. " He told her, and Sara simply sighed.

"You can help it Grissom! There's nothing you can't do."

"That's what I used to say about everything. But I've come to realize that this is the one obstacle in life that I know I'm physically incapable of stepping over." He confessed, as he ran his hand through his hair. "I wish I didn't love her. I really wish I didn't."

"Why can't you understand that I'm feeling the exact same things? Why can't I be selfish?"

Grissom had no answer for her. All he could say was that he was sorry, that he just couldn't do this with her anymore.

"You can. I can't ever force you to do anything, Sara. But all I'm trying to do is tell you not to make the same mistake. I'm telling you this because I want to be honest with you and I think it's better for you to move on."

"Why, Gil? Why?"

"Because I'm a selfish bastard. I wish I had a better answer than "Blame me. It's all my fault." But that's the way it is." He answered, his head in his hands. He heard her sigh and tremble and they stayed silent for a while.

"So you're just going to commit emotional suicide?"

"That's just the thing, Sara. I'm not afraid of my emotions dying, although I know it's inevitable. And I know it's being selfish, wanting to be alone and simply watch her because I obviously didn't think about what it could to others. That's why I'm asking you now." She paused, and Grissom prayed he had gotten through to her. "Please, Sara. I know it's difficult to imagine not being together right now, but…I…I can't love you. Not in this lifetime."

A silence hung over them after his last words, and he knew the exact moment she would start crying. After about a couple of seconds of trying very hard not to let her emotions get to her, Sara burst in tears. She had never cried during their relationship and Grissom knew that the conversation would eventually lead to extreme circumstances. Although he believed that it was his cue to shed a few tears, nothing came out of him. In place of tears, there was just a dull throbbing in the pit of his chest. He didn't know what to say, but just simply took her into his arms and she surprised him by letting him do so.

"I can't ever repay you for what I'm doing to you, and I want you to know that I'm paying for it, every minute of every day for the rest of my life. But I still care about you, I still love you as your colleague and close friend. Will you forgive me? Cancel that. I don't deserve that." He whispered, and she seemed to relax slightly in his hold.

"What do you want me to do, Gil?" She asked.

"I just want you to know that I can't return your feelings and I just want you to move on with your life and find your own happiness." He answered, with the utmost sincerity. "What would you have me do?"

"I'd want you to move on as well. Get on with the rest of your life, you know? She's going to get married to some guy that she's apparently in love with and you're not going to get anything out of this than pain. The best thing for you to do is to move on, and try to find someone else. If you can't go to heaven, try to find another place that resembles it even remotely."

"But there is and always will be only one heaven. What does that make of the other replacement? Nothing but an empty promise and a shell that carries no meaning. Even if I could find someone and I know that you could be it, it makes the new relationship meaningless and worthless because it isn't created for its sake. It's created for the sake of relieving the disappearance of something else. I don't want that for someone else. It was my mistake. I carry that to my grave." He replied, not fully comprehending what he was saying to himself.

"Well, we don't get to choose who we love can we? I can't blame you, but I guess I can blame myself. I was the foolish one, thinking that our relationship would work." Sara whispered. She looked at him now, both their eyes moist. "I just…don't know what to do."

"Just think that we never happened. I don't mean to say that while I was with you, I never enjoyed myself. Our relationship meant something to me but not what it should have and not what you deserve. You deserve better than me and I want you to go out and find that." He told her, holding her hands in his.

"I don't have a say in this, do I?"

"No, not really. I'm kind of…giving you an order as a boss in this case. Nothing you can do unless you want to upset this chain of command." He replied, jokingly. She showed signs of a faint smile that disappeared as quickly as it had come. "Look, I understand if you don't want to come to the party tonight, but I have obligations to be there."

"I know…I'll go." Sara replied, wiping away any traces of tears that may be left on her face. "Anything you do, you do for her, don't you?" She didn't sound jealous, but simply shocked. "I mean…it didn't ever matter what happened to you, what happened to other people as a result. The only thing that you could see was her and her only."

Gil was surprised that Sara could put what he felt so adequately into words. He wanted to have her punch him senseless to wipe away the feelings of guilt that were boiling up like unwanted bile in his throat, but he swallowed it. He simply nodded, staring at the floor.

"Sara…."

"I know all you can say is sorry, and I'm sorry too. But you're right. We shouldn't ruin this for Catherine. But I don't know if you can keep that promise." Gil looked up into her inquisitive eyes. "How are you ever going to bear the pain of walking her down the aisle to some man that you barely know?"

"Do I have a choice?" He asked, trying to ignore the question.

"Are you sure you can keep yourself in check instead of objecting to their marriage after doing that? Are you sure you can see her with someone else while you must stand back and hold the video camera like that guy in Love Actually?" Sara asked, obviously skeptical of his abilities to withstand such emotional stress, and to Gil it seemed that Sara was trying to convince him out of walking her down the aisle. "It might just be easier to let her go on her own or with someone else like Nick."

"But she wanted me to. She wanted me there, and if that's what she wants, I'll do it. I'd do just the same for you." He told her, trying to erase his own doubts about his restraints. He wondered if the wedding would be all it took before all his emotional flood exploded out of the dam and became uncontrollable.

--

It took them surprisingly little time to get ready as Sara had already picked out certain shirts and pants to wear to nice occasions. Sara did not bother to apply any make up or make any effort to look nice as women usually did. Wearing a freshly-ironed black dress shirt and his light denims, he walked into the bar, holding Sara's hand. There was an impossible crowd in the bar, consisting mostly of law enforcement officials that Catherine had gotten to know over the years. He knew most of the faces, except for some who Gil assumed were from Seattle. Because it was a bachelorette party, most of the attendees were women, and Gil felt slightly left out.

When Sara walked off to find the others, Gil was left all alone in the midst of the crowd. He was brought back down to Earth by Sofia's hand on his shoulder.

"Hey Gil. Glad you could make it." She told him, her voice as attractive as ever. His heart actually skipped a beat. "For a minute, I was afraid you might not show up. It is, after all, a bachelorette party." She smiled when she told him this and he chuckled.

"I hope Catherine's not thinking of having a bridal shower or something." He told her, making Sofia laugh.

"If she was, I'd be out of here right with you." She replied and Gil nodded in response. Watching Sofia sway slightly to the music, he wondered where everyone else was.

"Where's…"

"Come on, let's find our team." She told him, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the edge of the rented out club.

He saw Greg, Nick, Warrick, Jim, Sara, Archie, Wendy and Hodges conversing and already there were enough drinks to make Gil's eyes go out of focus. When he came into their view with Sofia at his arm, they all burst out into a commotion.

"So the elusive man of honor finally shows up." Nick piped up. Grissom threw him a dirty look.

"Didn't know the party was so far into the night."

"It's not. We're just warming up, Griss. Drink up." Warrick told him, scooting over to make room for Grissom, who uneasily sat at the booth. He looked around the large table and noticed the empty spot next to him where Catherine was sitting before. "Catherine's grabbing us some drinks. She's on fire tonight. Watch out."

"What do you mean?"

"Just saying…" Warrick told him, winking. Grissom raised his eyebrows, still perplexed. "Cheers, boss." Gil nodded as he clinked glasses with Warrick and drank a large sip, a part of him wishing he could catch up with the team. He wanted to forget everything today, and because it was the second last day that Catherine would be "single," he thought he could probably make it last.

When Catherine arrived back at the table in a white tanktop and ripped jeans, Gil knew exactly what Warrick meant. Her skin was flushed a rosy pink, her hair tied back to show the curve of her neck. When Catherine spotted Gil, she smiled. Grissom shifted uneasily in his seat until she sat next to him.

"So Mr. Grissom. You decided to show up today." She told him, and Gil nodded in response, unable to say anything. She gave him a lingering peck on his chin and turned her attention back to the drinks. He was frozen in his position, feeling the heat radiate from her being. He smiled and wanted to let time progress.

--

"Two shots Griss. No more, no less."

Gil nodded all too enthusiastically and took his shots of vodka and felt his control slip even further. In the corner of his eye, he thought he could see Catherine staring at him, concerned.

"Gil…are you okay?" Her hand on his arm. He felt that. He turned to face her and smiled.

"I'm fantastic."

"You're drunk."

"Who are you to tell me I'm drunk? I thought you wanted me to have fun. Do you want to see me sulk again? Is that it?" He asked her, challenging her on. She looked offended. But he softened quickly and smiled. "Please, Catherine. Don't worry about me. This is the last time I'm ever doing this. At least my speech isn't slurred…yet."

Gil had wanted her to notice what he was doing to himself. He wanted to send her the message that said, "I need you," or "I can't do without you so don't marry the bastard." But he wasn't as brave as the men were in movies or on TV. He was just a typical guy, in love with a unique woman.

"Okay, Warrick. Your turn."

"Hmm…let's see…who can I torture further?" Warrick was looking around the table, and when Grissom coughed, Warrick smiled. "Guess it's your night, boss. Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Hoots went up from around the table except Catherine. "What do you want me to do?"

"I dare you to dance." Warrick said, and boos were heard. "Come on. You can do something more wild when you're more drunk. For now, you have to dance."

"Shit." Gil cursed, as he stood up, his body already partly covered in sweat. "This is too boring. You want me to make a fool of myself alone out there?"

"Well, never said anything about being alone." Warrick hinted, and Greg burst out laughing. Before Greg could suggest anything, Gil's hand was on Catherine's and he was dragging her out there.

"GO GRISS!!" Nick hooted, with his former football voice. "Come on Sar. Let's go dance. Stop sulking." Before they knew it, the whole table was on their feet, ready to go dancing.


	31. Chapter 30 :: Last Night

**Chapter 30:**** Last Night**

_I just want to enjoy my life_

_And show this world how I care_

_Nothing brings me more joy_

_Than knowing my girl will be there_

--

The only thing Gil could feel was his own pulse, the bass, and Catherine's hand in his. He was numb all over.

When he was in the middle of the floor, he realized how many friends Catherine had when the entire club was filled with people and people alone. He could hear his team right behind him as he made his way through the bodies of people, never letting go of her hand. And when he stopped, he knew she was suddenly frightened of who he was. He turned around, facing her, his breath quicker and heavier. He looked into her eyes and saw what he believed was doubt, concern and behind it all, some form of excitement. It had been hidden, and it was hidden well. He liked to think that he was probably the only man who was able to figure that out.

"Aren't you always the one who's telling me to relax?" He asked her. He was holding back.

"But you're out of your mind. You're not you anymore." She answered, ready to turn away.

"But isn't that a good thing? Since you don't like who I used to be." He told her, and he saw her frown slightly. "Right?" He dared her to step away, to back down but he knew she wouldn't refuse the challenge. She strut her way right to his face.

"You can't dance." She whispered, her breath imminent on his lips. He licked them, savoring the very air she breathed.

"When'd you ever see me dance?" He asked, knowing she would have said that he couldn't dance. But he knew he wasn't too stiff. She faltered, searching his eyes for an answer, for a logical reason. "If you don't believe me, try me."

--

_Are you happy girl?_

_Knowing that you went and broke my heart in a piece or two?_

_Knowing that I would have walked across the ocean for you?_

_Sayin' you're young and confused_

_But that's a lame excuse_

_That's why the only one to blame is you for…_

--

They stood there, their eyes engaged in a cold battle.

"Griss! What happened to dancing, man?" He heard Nick shout from somewhere, and when he looked across, he saw Nick with Sara, her form encased in his. Gil smiled and nodded. He turned his attention back to Catherine, who didn't step away. Her look seemed to say, "I dare you." He stepped even closer and put his cheek against hers and felt her breath on his ear.

"Try me." He whispered in to her left ear. He had no idea what was over him, telling him, urging him on to do the thing he was doing. Challenging Catherine two days before the wedding was something he had never even dreamt of, but the fact that she wasn't backing down, that she was the one putting this off surprised him. Then again, he always knew she was up for a test. He wanted to win this fight so badly that he ached for it. His right hand found her left, and he entwined their fingers as his left hand found her waist and slipped around her, drawing her closer as his left leg found its spot between hers. Her hand left his to wind around his neck and he smiled.

Her cotton tanktop felt soft under his fingers, and it was thin enough so that he could touch her skin, his fingers burning as he did so. They started to move together, her body warming up to his. Grissom had always been afraid that he would really be as bad at dancing as he had feared, but they moved surprisingly well and soon enough he felt eyes on them. His hands were moving up and down her back, probing slightly under her shirt once more. He felt her breathe in sharply when he did so, feeling his fingers that were callous from the field work that he did.

--

_Last Night_

_I can't believe what I was hearing_

_Tellin' me to have a nice life_

_So tonight,_

_I don't think I'll spare your feelings_

_I'm gonna do for me what's right._

_--_

He felt her easing up to him and he knew he was on the right track, that things weren't as bad as he thought they might end up being. The night was only just beginning, he kept telling himself and he knew there would be more opportunities to do as he wanted to, just this one night. This was the last night he'd ever be able to do this, not being afraid of the consequences. But the strange fact about it all was that he was ready to face it, and that's what scared him most. The fact that he wasn't afraid to dance with Catherine in such a manner thought impossible for himself. That was it. This was for him. This night was for him, and all he would do that night was for himself and him only. He didn't care about what Catherine would have to face later, and all he cared about was his desire, refusing to subside on its own.

He knew they became one as they moved together, as they started to get closer to the ground, Catherine basically sitting on his thigh. He didn't know how much more of this sweet torture he could take, but he knew she was punishing him for his challenge this way. His lips met her exposed neck, cautiously, and he could feel her tremble. Before he knew it, he was savouring the moment, reveling in the feeling of her body so close to his and imitating his own movements. He knew she was enjoying it too as he could feel her pushing her hips forward and pulling them back with more force as the song progressed. Both her arms were now fully tangled around his neck, surrendering her whole form to the mercy of his body. Her right hand occasionally dropped down to rest at his chest, applying slight force as if to push him away.

--

_In your eyes I see a second chance  
Maybe I should take another glance  
But for now I'll wash my hands  
'Cause I love ya baby, love ya baby_

--

The heat was becoming much more real to Grissom as he felt sweat dripping down the side of his face, and his torso, and realized that his shirt was probably quite damp but he wasn't sure whether it was all his sweat or some of hers mixing as well. Her skin glistened underneath the colorful lights and he put his lips to her shoulder, tasting the salt on her skin. He felt her fingers tentatively winding through his wet hair and realized that it was the first time he was truly acting upon his primitive desires.

He also realized that she was responding to everything he was doing and half pushing him on to do things that would be thought inappropriate for two people in a relationship such as theirs. Her lips dangerously close to his ear and occasionally his lips. But Gil guessed that this was the etiquette of the nightclub dancing; things were as suggestive as they could get but it probably didn't mean much to Catherine who had done this for a living once upon a time. Or so he hoped. On the other hand, he was fully sincere, his every movement imitating what he had only dreamed about on those lonely nights. This was a dream come true for him and although it may not become reality, he would replay the moment over and over again and hope that it never ends.

"This is me, Catherine. No more, no less." He whispered as the beat carried them off to another world.

--

Gil had lost track of time, and soon enough the song came an end, and when it did, they stopped, still in each other's arms. As he drew away slightly, he looked into her eyes and found them moist. When he tried to open his mouth to say something, she dashed away from him towards the bathrooms. He was left on the dance floor, clasping air. He stood there, unable to move for a minute or two and made his way towards the table.

"Griss. I know I've never seen you dance, but I've never seen Catherine dance like that." Warrick told him, smiling. Gil tilted his head. "Come on. You guys were literally getting it on out there. I was surprised Catherine was willing. Where is she anyway?"

"Don't know. She kind of made a run for it after that." He replied, and was met with silence from Warrick. "I must have scared her."

"Well, I guess so. You're not really yourself tonight. You're a beast, G." Warrick told him, and Grissom laughed.

"Want to dance with me like that?" Sofia asked, her tone suggestive. Gil raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. "Excellent."

"Sexcellent, you mean." Greg added, earning a punch from Brass who was pretending to be asleep. "Jesus Christ, Cap. Did not know you were awake."

"I have a third ear, Sanders. Watch out." Jim replied, groggily, one of his eyes opening to watch Gil and Sofia disappear into the crowds.


	32. Chapter 31 :: The Truth Behind the Dare

**Chapter 31:**** The Truth Behind the Dare**

"So what's up between you two?" Sofia asked, her voice booming in his left ear. "Seriously. I have to agree with Warrick. It looked like you two were…you know."

"I don't know if I want to answer this, Sofia." He replied, his head coming to rest gently against hers. "And I don't know if I can." His felt his control slip again and he closed his eyes.

"Come on, spill. My lips are sealed." She told him as her arms wound completely around his neck.

"Isn't that a song?" Gil asked, wanting to avoid the topic altogether, but Sofia's knowing look made him give in. He did not feel that he should be telling the whole world his secret that he should have carried to the grave, but his control had slipped too far. "Honestly….I don't know."

"What do you mean? What's your side of the story?" She enquired.

"What's it to you, Sofia? Why does this matter so much?" He asked, afraid that perhaps this conversation would reach someone else's ears.

"Well maybe I can find out the other side for you." She offered, and he perked his ears. "I don't know what it is about you tonight but the fact that you reek of alcohol yet you seem so together, more so than usual, actually, kind of scares me." He chuckled. "It almost seems as if you're getting drunk to…"

"I will not ruin her wedding because of something I couldn't keep quiet about." He told her, and Sofia's eyes were narrowed. She looked like she understood. He hated how much of a hypocrite he could be.

"That was all the answer I ever needed, Grissom." She replied, turning her attention back to moving with him. "But wait. Is this serious or is it just something silly?"

"I wish it could just be a silly passing phase for me, Sofia. But I'm too old for that, you and I both know." He told her and sighed. He felt Sofia envelop him in an embrace and he welcomed it. This was a moment when he didn't feel like he was lonely in the world, that someone had understood his inner workings and he appreciated it. He felt that she truly cared, without ulterior motives and he relished her friendship. He had always been somewhat attracted to Sofia because of her strength, her charisma and just the way she carried herself was all up for his admiration. "Sofia…I…I've always admired you, I want you to know that." He heard her chuckle in her low and husky voice.

"Gil…I've always admired you, too." She said as she looked at him, and he smiled in return. "I just want to tell you that you can always tell me what's on your mind. I mean…I'm always on your side, you know that."

"Thank you." He replied, turning his attention to the table they were just sitting at, watching as Catherine appeared around the corner and their eyes met. They held each other's gazes for a long time, and when she broke out of her reverie, it looked like she was ready to leave. "Sofia…I…I've got to go talk to her." And Sofia let him go without a second thought.

-------------------------------------------------

"What? You're leaving? This is your party, Cath." Warrick told her, as he tried to hold her back by grabbing onto her wrist. But she shook her head. "No you can't. This is your bachelorette party, you have to stay."

"I really don't feel very well." Catherine replied, and before she could say anything more, she was being drawn away from the table by Gil and led to the corner by the bathrooms. "What are you doing?"

"Why are you leaving? You were having so much fun until I danced with you." He told her, and she looked at him as if she couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. "Is it because of me? Then I'll leave first. I'm not going to ruin your night."

"You didn't ruin my night, Gil…I…I did." She told him and when she tried to walk away, he pinned her to the wall.

"You're not leaving before I do. You can't."

"What are you doing? Who are you?" She asked, and he knew her face showed signs of fascination.

"Remember what I told you? This is me, Catherine. This is the Gil Grissom that you've never cared enough to discover." He replied, bitterly. He didn't know why his words were getting the better of him. He didn't know where the bitterness that was dripping from his words came from. Although he knew that jealousy possessed the power to change people, he never thought that those people would come to include him.

"Gil, you're hammered right now." She told him, as if he was just a teenager, rambling on because of the alcohol.

"So what if I am? I could probably walk in a straight line, recite the alphabet forwards and backwards, and state my full name." He told her, drawing closer. She shifted uneasily. "The only thing that being intoxicated is changing is…"

"Look, I'm not going to stay…"

"Look Catherine. I'm really lifting my head out of the microscope again, okay? This is the last time I'll ever be this way, so bear with me. People like who I've been so far today. I know you did." He told her, his tone slightly changing. She frowned. He shook his head again, trying to keep the proud man in check. "Stay a couple more minutes. Then you can drive me home." He told her as he stepped even closer to her, his lips inches away from hers. She seemed to shiver under his form. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her back to the table.

"There's a good fiancée. Sit down, Cath. Drinks on me." Greg told her as he made space for the both of them. Drinks were waiting for them on the table and Gil did not hesitate to down a shot. To everyone else, Catherine still seemed unconvinced.

"Take it easy, Gil." Sara told him, and everyone looked at her as if a dumb person just learned to speak. "You'll get the worst hangover." But she didn't seem angry or offended and everyone was even more surprised by that. Gil simply replied with a bitter and knowing smile, and Sara's face showed hints of a slight smile.

"You know, I think we should do this more often. Griss is way more fun tonight." Nick called out. "Seriously, man. You're totally not yourself."

"I've heard that too many times tonight. I don't know if that's a good thing." Gil replied, and he surprised himself with the coherent speech that was coming out of him even with the amount of alcohol he'd consumed. "But tonight's the last time I'm ever doing this. Enjoy it while you can." He said, to no one in particular. The truth of it was that Gil wanted to get himself trashed, so drunk that he didn't know how to feel anymore. He wanted the hangover to carry on onto the wedding, just enough so that he wouldn't be conscious when he walked her down the aisle. He knew Sara was right; he didn't know how in God's name he was going to do it.

"Griss, you look like you're almost trying to get drunk for Catherine's wedding in two days." Nick pointed out, and Gil simply laughed it off. "How are you going to deliver your speech when you're so hammered?"

"My speech won't be affected. It's not being affected now, right? And right now, I feel like shit." He told the group, who chuckled.

"Give me two shots." Catherine piped up, the whole team turning their heads to look at her. "What? This is my party. I have the right to get drunk." Warrick smiled and gave her a high-five.

"This is going to be an interesting night." Warrick whispered to himself.

-------------------

"Dare."

"Oh Catherine, can you please choose truth just once?" Greg whined, clinging to Catherine. "Please?"

"Ok, fine. I'll indulge you, Sanders. Truth."

"YES! I get it my way. MY WAY!" He shouted, the team cringing from the volume. "Ok Ms. Willows. If you had to have an affair in the future…"

"Sanders…" Warrick whispered, nudging Greg, who didn't feel a thing.

"…who would it be with? And it has to be one of us." He asked. Warrick wondered if Greg really was drunk or if he was just trying to stir up trouble. He looked at Grissom, who was engrossed in his drink, seemed almost fascinated by the glass.

"Do I really have to answer this?"

"It's your Bachelorette Party, Cath! You could technically hook up with someone here and it would be forgiven as a one-night stand."

"Would it, now?" She asked, one of her eyebrows raising itself in curiosity. Warrick took it as a bad sign.

"Well…as long as no one else knew about it." He replied, winking at her.

"I think you know the answer to the question, Greg."

"I do?" He asked, innocently.

"I'm not going to spell it out for you." She answered, bringing the bottle to her face. Greg smiled.

"You're blushing Catherine."

"I am not. It's the alcohol."

"It's also the man next to you." Greg whispered, seeing Gil's head pop up at the mention of his name. He looked from Catherine to Greg and again before realizing what had transpired. "Do you want to take the Dare now, Cath?"

"No not really."

"I dare you, Catherine Willows, to kiss both Warrick Brown and Gil Grissom. Five and Ten Mississippis, respectively." He announced, feeling smug about himself. Although everyone would have usually hushed, they burst out in a roar of happiness from alcohol. Even Warrick was too gone to protest the insanity of such an action. Catherine hesitated but wet her lips and Greg screamed in joy. She went for Warrick first, grabbing his collar and putting her lips to his quickly. After 5 seconds, she pulled back, smiling.

"I love you Greg." Warrick said, a smile appearing on his face. Greg burst in laughter and hugged Warrick with all his force. When Catherine sat back down properly in her seat, she shifted. She wet her lips again, had a bite of the lemon in her drink and turned toward Gil. He turned his head to look at her, trying to get a sense of what she was thinking, even in his drunk state. Even in their drunk states, everyone hushed. Even Greg Sanders.

She straightened her back, and inched closer. When her lips were mere centimeters away from his, she smiled before closing the gap. From the beginning, Warrick knew this was different. Perhaps polar opposite to what he had just shared with Catherine. The kiss was gentle, her lips softly moving against his.

_One Mississippi__…_

When their lips parted for air, her tongue snaked out very briefly, passing unnoticed by everyone else but Gil Grissom. He wanted to do something but he guessed that it must be alcohol that froze his body the way it was.

_Two Mississippi__…_

Her hand started to snake up his torso to land on the collar of his dress shirt. He felt her tug it slightly, drawing him closer but by very little.

_Three Mississippi__…_

She didn't know what was happening. What was she supposed to do? What did they expect from her and Gil in this compromising position? She thanked God that Nick had taken Sara home earlier. She wanted to think but when she sensed the first movements of Gil's lips, she had to abandon all thought.

_Four Mississippi__…_

He made the decision to deepen it slightly. He was glad that Sara had left. Although he wasn't quite recovered from the shock of their break-up, he was at the mercy of Catherine's lips. He decided to abandon all his senses except for the sense of touch and taste.

_Five Mississippi__…_

She tasted the vodka. When their tongues somehow met in the slow movements, she could taste the strong alcohol on his breath. It was a new feeling as their lips moved in unison. Usually when she tasted alcohol on men, the kiss was never this gentle, never this unhurried. Never Gil Grissom.

_Six Mississippi__…_

She tasted of alcohol and lemon. He had only been in such situations rarely, but never with Catherine Willows. This was obviously a different kiss than the one they had shared at the hospital. He didn't like the fact that they were kissing again. He didn't like to admit the fact that he could possibly be lost again.

_Seven Mississippi__…_

She didn't want to ever admit the fact that Gil Grissom was the only man that could give her second thoughts about this marriage. She didn't want to ever admit the fact that she often compared other men to Gil, and she didn't ever want to admit the fact that Ian had been the one closest to that standard. But they weren't Gil Grissom. The hand that was tugging at his shirt collar loosened, two of her fingers leaving the shirt to explore his beard.

_Eight Mississippi__…_

He kept telling himself that this was Catherine Willows he was kissing right now. He knew that this would never come again but his body refused to act without a strong will. One of his hands left his side to slowly trace her curves along her waist, returning to the place it was when they were on the dance floor. Only two more. He didn't want to admit the fact that he was afraid. He fell in love with her upper lip.

_Nine Mississippi__…_

She had never realized how much she had appreciated his lower lip. Her teeth tugging at it, she wanted to pull it away from him, to keep it as hers. She couldn't help but smile and she felt his smile on her lips accordingly. She was teasing him, and she knew he liked it.

_Ten Mississippi__…_

It was as if she never got engaged. It was as if nothing bad had ever happened between them. It was as if Gil's dreams were coming true. When they pulled away, the shadows of smiles evident on the corners of their lips, they opened their eyes, azure meeting sky blue. Gil Grissom imagined what could and what should be.


	33. Chapter 32 :: Interlude

**Chapter 32:**** Interlude**

"What's going on?"

Catherine splashed her face with cold water, leaving the noisy waterfall on. She refused to open her eyes, refused to look at her reflection in the mirror. She refused to accept the fact that something was wrong. She finally opened her eyes and saw Sofia's reflection.

"What do you mean?" Catherine asked, nonchalantly, splashing her face once more. "I'm just feeling a bit feverish, that's all."

"Oh come on, Catherine. I know we haven't been the closest of friends but I'm not stupid. I'm a woman too and I think something's off." Sofia replied, crossing her arms and leaning on the wall. "You enjoyed that a little too much, I think. That and the whole deal on the floor."

Catherine turned the water off and straightened her hair, untying the bun and tying it again.

"Look, Sofia. I'm just a little under the influence and if my actions are a little bolder than usual, that's nothing new when it comes to alcohol." She answered, trying to hide the blush that she felt rising to her cheeks. His lower lip.

"You and Gil are the same." Sofia muttered, turning to leave.

"Wait what?" Catherine asked, suddenly intrigued, but Sofia had already turned and left the washroom.

Even Catherine did not understand what was going through her head. She was definitely not drunk enough for her behavior to change. She had kept the alcohol under control tonight but she knew that Gil had had his share. Yet when she remembered his straight walk, his straight face, and his smooth talk, she could not believe that he had consumed as much as he had. He seemed perfectly capable of making conscious and moral decisions. Then what was it?

"Damn you, Gil Grissom." She muttered. She dried her hands on her pants. Looking at her reflection one last time, she walked out.

--------------------------

"What's up with you?"

Gil splashed his face with cold water, running his wet hands through his hair. He breathed heavily, trying to calm his racing heart. He hoped it was just the alcohol that was making him so anxious.

"I don't know, Jim." Gil replied honestly. He closed his eyes, listening to the water fall from the tap onto the sink and into the drains. He splashed the wet water onto his neck and forearms, somehow trying to cool down his rising body temperature. Her upper lip.

"Grissom. What are you going to do about this? You can't keep running around the question. I know you guys both know what is going on. If you don't talk about this, it's going to get very bad very soon."

"No, Jim. Don't you understand that as soon as one of us mentions the thing that is going on between us, it's over? It puts everything else in jeopardy. If this remains unspoken and thrown on the back burner, she lives happily and peacefully and I get my closure somehow." He replied, hoping this would come true.

"You aren't going to be able to help yourself. I know you have amazing amounts of self-control, but you're a man. A man can't see straight when it comes to the matters of a woman. Especially if it's a woman _you_ are in love with." Jim retorted, crossing his arms.

"I think I'm going to go home Jim."

"I'll drive you."

"That's okay. I'm going to take a cab. I need some time to think." Gil replied, shaking his hands free of the water droplets. He rubbed his eyes.

"I need to find you another woman." Jim muttered, turning to leave the washroom. Gil tried to throw a glare his way, but Jim was already out of range.

Gil Grissom looked at himself in the mirror, noticing his increasingly gray hair, the wrinkles around his eyes, his facial hair showing obvious signs of neglect. He shook his head slowly, secretly smiling to himself.

"God damn it."

When Catherine arrived back at the table, Gil was apparently getting ready to leave. He was putting his blazer back on, rummaging his pockets for his belongings. She frowned and walked slightly quicker to the table.

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah. I think I need to leave…leave you guys alone. I think I've…yeah." He didn't finish his sentence.

"I'll take you home." Catherine piped up, silencing the team.

"I promise I won't drive myself. Just have fun the rest of the night, okay? I'll talk to you soon."

"How the hell am I supposed to have fun when you're about to topple over from alcohol?"

"I'm not about to topple over! What do I have to tell you to get you to relax?" He asked, the tension rising. "You know what? Whatever. I'm not going to ruin these guys' nights too. I've already ruined yours."

"Aw, Griss. No man. You were lots of fun tonight. Don't worry about it, and make Catherine happy. That's all that matters to us." Warrick told him, and Grissom felt a strange rush of emotion.

"I think the only way of doing that is leaving." He replied, receiving an unbelieving look from Catherine. "And if I can't do that, I'll just have to step away. No matter how..." His mouth so no longer under his control and he realized that his emotional dam was on the verge of breaking. He knew he had to leave before it got out of hand. "I'm off guys! I'll see you all tomorrow. That is if I survive tonight." He got up from the bench and started to head for the door.


	34. Chapter 33 :: You Don't Know Me

**Chapter 33:**** You Don't Know Me**

When he realized that his breath was mingling with the air and becoming a mist, he felt the cold Vegas air seep through his jacket. He looked at the orange sky and closed his eyes, breathing in the frigid air, his brain temporarily stopping mid-motion. He opened his eyes, and upon spotting a small spark in the sky, he turned his attention back to the ground. He looked for his car in the parking lot, but couldn't spot it, as things were too dark. He made a conscious decision to come back in the morning and pick up his car as he walked towards the sidewalk to haul a taxi.

"Gil!"

He turned around at the sound of Catherine's voice calling him. She was standing in front of the door he had just exited. He tilted his head.

"What?"

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked, one right hand going up to her waist, naturally, without thought. Gil loved the little things.

"I'm grabbing a taxi. Go back in, don't worry about me. I'll see you tomorrow." He tore back around but he heard steps running towards him. When he turned around, he was face-to-face with her. He frowned. "What is it, Catherine?"

"I want my Gil back."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know who you are anymore. You're not the guy I asked to be my Man of Honor. You're not…When we were in there, dancing…do you know how scared I was?"

"This is who I am, Catherine. Maybe you didn't know who I was, or maybe you just forgot how I used to be." He replied, his fists clenching. "Maybe you've never bothered to look for this side of me. I was always the boring one, stuck in his townhouse with no life of his own. I'm just someone who's always there in my office, waiting for you to come knock on my door. I was just your co-worker turned friend." He continued, and he knew bitterness was dripping from every word he uttered now. She looked unbelievably hurt, and he thought he could see tears welling up in her eyes. He visibly softened again. "But you were right. I would have just been those things. But you…you changed my life."

"Gil…"

"I've never been true to myself. I've always been afraid of what everyone else would think of me, how they'd compare who I really was to my reputation. Frankly, even if I wanted to live the way I sometimes felt I should, I knew no one cared. I thought you had, but even then I realized that somehow you've just wanted me the way I was. I wanted to prove to you that I was never beyond reproach, and I thought tonight was the night to do it because it would be my last chance to show you just what kind of a man I could be."

Catherine stood there, unable to utter a single word. She seemed to be thinking about something else, her complexion as white as the moon on that night. He sighed as he exhaled deeply.

"The man you met on the dance floor, and the man that just told you that you had never known him are both me. They're parts of me that I would have wanted you to come and discover some time, parts of me that I would have loved to explore with someone." He told her, his memory starting to fade. He got the vague feeling that he wouldn't remember this conversation the next morning.

"No, you don't know who dreams of you at night, longs for the day that he would have enough courage to let you go…" He paused, looking at the ground. "Everyone may think that you know me best, but…you don't know me at all."

He stepped closer to her and caressed her face, the skin trembling underneath his fingers. In every other way, he knew he was confessing his sin to the saint of his life.

But when Catherine suddenly made an abrupt turn and walked towards her car, he chased after her. "Catherine!" He called, grabbing her wrist. But she shook him free.

"I can't believe you." She told him, her eyes full of the venom she now spoke. "I…I can't believe you're doing this to me."

Gil paused mid-thought.

"What do you expect me to say? How do you want me to react to something like that, Gil? It's my bachelorette party, two days before my wedding! And you're telling me that…" She hung her head in despair and confusion.

"_I'm _telling you? God, Catherine. Stop making it seem like that was all me in there. You know just as well as I do you could have turned that dare down. What the hell was that kiss about?" Gil asked, the volume of his voice rising just a bit.

"It was alcohol, Gil. It's the alcohol." She replied, repeating the word alcohol, her eyes wandering. "I just…I don't know what's going on."

"Don't make it seem like I'm the one that's committing all the mistakes here, Catherine. I know I lost some self-control in there, but I know you did too. Everyone makes mistakes." He told her, frustrated.

"But what about what you just told me then, huh?" She asked, defiantly. "What kind of a mistake is that, Gil?"

Gil remained silent, his eyes boring a hole in the ground.

"It was the alcohol, Catherine. Fuck, I don't know what I'm saying." He told her, rubbing his eyes. "What the fuck am I doing?" He noticed that Catherine visibly flinched every time he swore. "Yeah. That's what it was. The alcohol."

He knew that he had just been given the chance. He had just been given his chance to tell her the truth behind everything. But he knew he had to blow it. He knew he couldn't do a thing about it, just staring at it as the opportunity walked away.

Gil felt that he had to remedy this situation somehow, that his mouth had been out of his control for a split second and had made her life miserable. He had to put on an act, and quickly. He suddenly dropped to the ground, pretending to lose his balance. He felt his arm meet with asphalt and let out a grunt as pain coursed through his body. She let out a yelp and came to his side. She shook him, his body limp in her hands.

"Gil? Gil, answer me." She told him, tapping his chest. After a minute or so, he slowly opened his eyes.

"Catherine?" He asked, and her head shot up, her eyes searching his own. Skepticism flashed in her eyes and he pushed on. "Catherine?"

"You just…you had too much to drink, Gil. It's okay. I'll take you home now." She told him, trying to help him stand up. He looked at her with a bittersweet smile.

"Okay." He told her, smiling weakly. "Thank you."

--------------------------------------------------------

He made himself as heavy as possible when she got him out of the car. He truly wanted to show her that his words did not come out of a sane man's mouth. He did his best to show her that he had been too intoxicated to make wise decisions. He paused to dry heave occasionally, and every time, Catherine seemed to whimper. She walked him to his door, and rummaged his pockets for his keys. He realized, while being carried by Catherine's small form, that she hadn't been to his house in approximately two years. He heard her chuckle as she entered his house and saw the meticulous state that it was in.

"Catherine?" He called out.

"Gil I'm here. We're at your place now. I'll just put you to bed and I'll leave, okay?" She told him, but he didn't answer. Although his plan had been to pretend his inebriated state, he was starting to feel like his mind was leaving his body. All conscious restraints were now undone, and he hoped that she wouldn't release the dam.

She helped him to his bedroom, and she threw him down on the mattress.

"Oh Gil." She muttered as she pulled out the covers and put it over him. She stared at him for a little while before turning to leave and he grabbed her wrist.

"Catherine…" He whimpered, and at this point, he realized that he no longer had any control over himself.

"Hmm?" She asked turning around.

"I…" He started, but his voice cowered.

"What did you say, Gil?"

"I…I want to say…" He piped up the courage to form words, and she leaned closer. "Don't go."

"You want me to be here while you throw everything up? Or want me to be here tomorrow morning to refresh your memory?" She asked, smiling softly. He couldn't tell her that that wasn't what he meant. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"No…" He whispered, and before he knew it, he had her pinned against his bedroom door. "Please…"

"Gil? What are you doing?"

"If I let you go now, that's it." He was babbling.

"What? Let me go?" She asked, completely puzzled by his behavior. "Gil, you're talking nonsense."

"But if I let you go, I'll never know what my life would be holding you close…" He drifted, as Catherine inhaled sharply.

With alcohol rank on his breath, he leaned closer. She seemed completely frightened, not of him, but of what might happen that night and what she would have to do to undo the damage. Then he saw the look in her eyes: the look of understanding the reasons for his behavior that night, the day before, and years before. He closed his eyes as he could feel the skin on her neck underneath his lips. He felt like his whole body was on fire, his head being smouldered by the heat. When his lips met her neck, she pushed him.

"Gil, what the hell…" She started to scream, but when she saw tears forming in his eyes, she stopped. She saw the look of despair in his eyes. She felt her heart involuntarily strain as it started to crack and tear.

He looked at her, his eyes not out of focus. He simply looked into her eyes and she realized she had never felt like this before, like someone was drawing her into his being with just a stare. As she saw a tear fall from his right eye, she thought she saw a glimpse of who he was, of the man she thought she had known all these years. The heart that was only tin-coloured but made of the softest flesh she had known. She realized that it now beat for her and her only.

She thought she saw forever in his eyes.

His eyes watering, he stepped towards her again without a word. He locked the door behind her, and she jumped at the harsh metal sound. He started for her face, and this time she did not push him. When his lips met hers again, he heard her whimper and tense again. He knew that she was straining. He could feel that her mind was struggling against the will of her instincts. He wanted to believe that this was not happening all over again, and he knew he was taking advantage of his drunkenness and Catherine's helplessness. After a while, he knew that she was crying. Although she was crying, her hands were snaking up his chest, winding around his neck, drawing him closer. He knew that her heart was breaking inside to be doing this with him on such a night, but he knew she just couldn't keep herself away.

Her fingers ran through his hair and his explored her skin underneath her shirt. He was so engrossed in her and apparently she was so absorbed by it all that she didn't notice her fingers undoing the buttons on his shirt. He quickly rid her of her white tank top, throwing it aside. Thin fabric met bare skin and he threw his arms around her, drawing her closer. He pinned her against the door, his hands moving up and down along her side. Her hands were running down the front of his chest, her nails occasionally scratching. His lips never left hers, tasting and sensing.

If this was wrong, Gil Grissom never wanted to be right again.

His shirt was put aside soon enough and before he knew it, they were on his bed, touching and exploring. Then, he understood that thinking wasn't always the best for every situation and he knew that Catherine was abiding by this as well. In place of the tears, her eyes were full of desire and her pupils had dilated in expectation. He responded with a series of kisses, putting his lips to everywhere and anywhere he saw.

None of what happened, happened slowly. Unlike the kiss at the club, the clothes all came off in a flurry. Everything was a product of all-consuming, self-destructive passion emanating from both bodies. It was as if they knew they had only a small amount of time and they were there to make it worthwhile. Gil knew that after this, there would be nothing left of him but a shell. The heat was consuming everything inside him but he could not care less.

As they met and moved together, there was not a word spoken between them but Gil knew they had spoken almost all they ever needed to say to each other just by looking. He had seen a flash of guilt at some point during the night but he knew that she had given herself over to him, for some reason that he could not figure out. He knew she had already figured out that he was desperately in love with her but he didn't want to admit it, as he knew that he would be able to back out of it, if he didn't say it at the least. He knew she was also having doubts about her marriage and was torn because she was feeling something she shouldn't be.

He heard the wind hitting his window as it howled in his ear. He heard the drumming of the occasional drifts on the walls of his townhouse and he started to calm down. He wanted to erase his breakdown from his memory, but he knew it was inevitably burned into the fabric of his being. He watched Catherine battle with herself for control and she looked into his eyes, searching for answers. For the answers even he didn't have. For answers he wished she would have had a long time ago. He knew that she didn't want to get into whatever he was feeling because then there would be no turning back. The damage would be marked, the crime against her bond with Ian, done.

Once again, time didn't stop but it made a spirited attempt.


	35. Chapter 34 :: To Her Fiancé

**Chapter 34:**** To Her Fiancé**

It definitely wasn't the first time waking up alone in his bed. But it was the first time he was alone when he didn't expect to be so in a very long time.

His eyes slowly opened, aching from the efforts to try to see through the darkness the night before. His ears slowly came to life, throbbing from the intense bass of the music from last night. His heart slowly started to beat, recovering from the beating it took last night. His arms were starting to grasp at the blankets before he knew it and he realized that she had left. His body was starting to come alive, reviving itself once more.

He wished he could say he didn't remember, that the alcohol had taken over his being and erased all memories. No matter how much he didn't want to remember, last night was the kind of night that he could never forget.

He didn't want to let himself start to wonder about her. He knew he had let go of control once last night; he didn't want to let it happen again. It was obvious to him that the result of his temporary insanity had resulted in an empty bed once again.

He had never thought himself to be a man without principle or even immoral. But as he thought back to the previous night and how even if he had died then and there, he would have been happy, he realized he wasn't so moral, nor was he really sticking to the principles he had set for himself and for others long ago.

He had always doubted love. He could never understand how love could make people kill others and commit other atrocities that he wouldn't have dreamt of committing in his life. He wanted to think that his case was an exception and that this was not like all other adulteries that were so often the birthplace of other more horrid crimes. He wanted to believe that yesterday had meant something to her. Because he knew it had meant the world to him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Before he knew it, he was waking up in his bed a second time after having fallen asleep while thinking.

When he opened his eyes, he heard his cell phone ring. He knew he was on call but something about the day told him it probably wasn't the Lab calling. Groggily, he picked up.

"Grissom."

"Gil, it's Ian speaking." The voice on the other end did not seem like the normal Ian: his voice had lost the bounce it usually had. It seemed serious. Gil's heartbeat sped up.

"Ian. How are you doing?"

"Well enough, thank you. And yourself?" Well enough. Smug bastard.

"A little tired." He replied, wiping off beads of sweat that managed to form on his forehead.

"How does your day look? Do you have any time?"

"Time? Time for what?" Gil asked. What was this feeling in the pit of his stomach?

"I'd like to have a few words with you, privately. Without Catherine."

Without Catherine. Something was wrong. Gil swallowed, hard.

"Of course. When is best for you? I'll try to fit your schedule." Gil replied, not understanding since when he became so accommodating to Ian's wishes.

"Is it okay if you meet me in about two hours? Tomorrow being the wedding and all." Something seemed urgent.

"Sure, that sounds good. Where should I meet you?"

"Will you meet me at the lobby of the hotel?"

"Sure. I will come by and give you a call." Gil replied, far too eagerly in his mind. His words seemed like the speech that often the criminals offered when they were trying to appear compliant to law enforcement. He had become the part of humanity he worked hard to fight, every night. He reminded himself to go pick his car up at the club.

"Thanks, Gil. I'll see you soon." Then Gil heard an abrupt click. He frowned, staring into the phone, wondering why the ever-polite Ian would hang up without hearing a goodbye from the other side. He hoped it wasn't what he thought it might be. He hoped he was being insanely paranoid.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour and a half later, Gil found himself driving his car towards the Rampart, past the blinding Strip lights. As he maneuvered the car, he had the feeling he wasn't going to remember how he got to the hotel. His thoughts were somewhere else though he knew he was going to need his senses to be on full drive tonight.

"Hello, Ian? I'm almost here."

"I'm waiting for you in the lobby. Come on in. Let's have a drink at the bar."

"All right then." Another click. Gil shut his phone with frustration and stepped out of the car for the valet to take it away. As he handed a tip to the young man, he wondered where Catherine was.

Walking through the rotating doors, he silently braced himself for the worst. The interrogation about Catherine's whereabouts last night, the reason for his calls to her being ignored in the wee hours of this morning, the events that occurred at her bacherlorette's party. Any one of those topics would probably be enough to break him. He closed his eyes as he imagined the scenario playing out in front of him. Although he tried to brace himself, he got the strange feeling that he wouldn't have control over himself yet again.

He stumbled into the bar, in dark jeans and a black shirt, his glasses perched on his nose, intimidating.

The bar was very dimly lit, to the point where Gil had to squint to make everything out. Although he could barely see anything else, the first thing he noticed when he stepped into the bar was the gaze of Ian's eyes. He felt them boring into his own and when the faint hint of a smile graced Ian's lips, any self-confidence he had had fell away from him at the door, as if it was unwanted dirt from the ghettoes of the outside world.

Every step heavy, Gil marched to Ian's table, smiling when he neared it.

"Ian. Nice to see you again." Gil said, showing him his best one. Ian hinted at a smile as well and nodded. "Can I get you something?"

"A step ahead of you. I've already ordered our drinks." A waitress came out of nowhere, as if on cue, and put down the drinks on their table. Gil took off his jacket, hung it on a coat-rack next to their booth and stepped in, opposite Ian Gates. He fought the urge to light a cigarette.

Ian sipped on his drink slowly, closing his eyes. He seemed as if he was trying to brace himself for what he was about to say to Gil, who felt incredibly helpless in the situation. He didn't think it would be right for him to broach the conversation and the subject. He just waited for Ian to start.

"Catherine wants time."

Gil's heart stopped. He didn't know if this was his worst nightmare or his best dream yet. He was so incredibly conflicted within himself in that one second that for the shortest moment, it wasn't all true. He didn't know what to say, how to even begin consoling Ian.

"Time…time for what?" He wanted to pretend that he didn't know. Genuinely.

"Time to think over our marriage." Ian replied, his face contorting in pain from some corner of his chest. Gil recognized the look. Invariably.

"She does? That's…a definite surprise to me." Stutter. Stutter.

"Is it?" Ian asked, taking another swig of his drink, his moves bolder now. Gil looked into Ian's eyes. Ian's sight had not rusted, his senses at the ready, to pick up any signs of guilt and to wait until Gil broke down by himself.

"Yes, it is. She hadn't told me anything along those lines just yesterday." Not told. Just showed. "So what does this have to do with me? You could have let me known this over the phone."

"It's not the fact that she wants it. It's the reason, Gil." Ian retorted, not breaking eye contact. Gil frowned. Did Ian know about the events that happened last night? He didn't think Catherine would betray their relationship so easily. He knew that although she could be brutal sometimes, she was still his friend and she still needed him. But he wasn't so sure anymore.

Gil sighed. His face meeting his palm. He wiped some of the small beads of sweat that had formed on the side of his face. He slowly felt his self-control slipping.

"Well she certainly must have come up with this idea today. There were no signs of hesitation yesterday, believe me."

"She hadn't talked to you about this before?" Ian asked. Gil's eyes shot up, searching for answers. Ian's eyes seemed more troubled than angry, more worried than suspecting. He wondered if he had had a misunderstanding, if he had shown too much of a guilty conscience and judged Ian. "I thought that she might have gone to you to talk about this before making such a big decision. And the fact that she hasn't told you about it yet, surprises me."

"No…she hasn't asked me about it at all." Gil replied, his tone more concerned now, less defensive. "Did you fight lately?" Gil didn't know how he had thrown away all his morals so quickly for Catherine. He was lying through his teeth and the people he despised the most on this planet were those who lied, who intentionally deceived others to achieve their own means.

Who was he right now? Was he the man he proclaimed to be in the grand words he had said to Catherine? He thought hypocrisy was a crime. He clenched his teeth.

"No, we hadn't fought, but I felt that…starting a couple of months ago, she had been distancing herself from me. I just wanted to pass it off as a kind of stagnation, a time when she wanted her space. So I gave it to her and I guess I didn't realize that we had been growing apart. When I asked her to marry me, she said yes but I felt as if there was something behind that smile. I wanted to think I was paranoid and I did end up convincing myself. That's why I don't think it's just cold feet. I think this is pretty serious."

"Where is she? Maybe go back and talk to her about this rather than me. It seems I'm no more knowledgeable in this matter than you are." Because he didn't want to be. Because he refused to let the world know.

"I don't know where she is right now."

"Well, I think…I'd like to talk to her. I think I should." Gil replied, fidgeting with his fingers.

"If you think it's going to help, by all means, please."

"Catherine always gets like this before a big commitment. She was burned badly in her last marriage, as I'm sure you already know. I think she just wants to think this through before rushing it again. At least that's what I want to think. I just want to … I'd like to believe that it's… it's just a phase." Gil had so much difficulty finishing the last sentence, he was sure he had given himself away.

"I'd like to believe so as well." Ian replied, showing hints of a bitter smile.

"Thank you for calling me and letting me know about this firsthand. Had it gone on any longer, I might have been really lost and confused about this whole ordeal." Gil knew it was no longer a question of possibility. He was too far lost to be ever found again.

"Of course. You _are_ her Man of Honor, after all." Ian raised his glass briefly. Gil thought this was the indication that the conversation was over.

"I better get going then. I will be at home. Hopefully Catherine will call me herself." He finished his drink and started for his jacket.

"Hey, before you go, tell me Grissom…"

Gil turned around at the sound of his last name from the man who had insisted on first names. He frowned slightly, seeing Ian suddenly finish his drink as well. Ian's look had changed again, back to the angry and suspicious Gil thought he had been before.

"If Catherine showed up at your door right now and told you that she loved you, would you turn her away?"

Gil froze. His heart sped up wildly and it was beating at a speed that was out of proportion. His hand trembled while fumbling with his jacket. He knew his face had given it all away: the guilty conscience, the basic summary of what had happened last night, what he really knew about Catherine's mindset.

"I…"

Ian didn't look at him, instead, looking in to the glass that had once held his drink. He was studying it, as if Gil didn't exist and he was just talking to the glass. Gil didn't know what to think, what to feel, what to say. He was at such a loss for words, it almost felt as if he had lost the capacity of language.

"I…don't know why you would ask me such a question, Ian."

"Yeah…I'm not sure why I had to myself." He replied, still refusing to look at Gil. "But I think I got my answer."

"Wait, hold on now." Gil turned around fully, his composure strangely calm. "What do you mean? The only reason I didn't respond was because I didn't want to justify it with an answer."

"Just how close are you two? Did you plan this out beforehand?"

"Plan out? What are you talking about?"

"You are both answering the same question with the exact same answer. Except Catherine would have walked out of the room by this point."

"Look, Ian. I don't know what she said nor why she said it. None of this went through me and I'm hearing all this for the first time. I don't know what you want from me exactly."

"I want to know if you love her, Gil."

Gil wanted to despair. To break down in front of Ian again. He didn't know why people expected him to tell him everything that was going on in his mind. He was asked that same question too many times, in his mind. He sighed a loud sigh.

"Why are you asking me this Ian? None of this matters right now."

"It matters to me."

"Why? You don't need to know everything about her before you marry her. Nor is any of what I'm thinking your business."

"It's because I think she might be in love with you, goddamn it!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"_Ian…we need to talk about something."_

"_Sure, honey. What's the matter? I realized something has been on your mind since forever but I wasn't able to figure it out by myself." They sat down. He had to; his legs were about to give way._

"_I really don't know how to put this best…I just want you to know that it's not something that I came up with in a second. That I thought about this…" She hesitated. It almost seemed as if she was on the verge of tears._

"_You know you can tell me anything, Catherine. I won't hold it against you, I promise." Although he made it, he wasn't sure if his heart was ready to obey his head. He was already descending into despair because he could finish what he knew she was about to say._

"_I…I need time…"_

"_Time? What do you mean?"_

"_I need time to think about this marriage, Ian, I'm sorry." _

_Ian's heart suddenly stopped, skipping a couple of beats. When it was back to life, he sputtered._

"_You…you do?" _

"_I…I started to think yesterday…and…you know how I was burned badly in my last marriage. I just…I want to make sure that I'm not…making the same mistake. That this is not a mistake."_

"_But Catherine…I thought…I thought you loved me. I thought we … "_

"_I do, Ian. I really do, there's no doubt about that. I just…I need to clarify a couple of other things. I need… I need to talk to Gil."_

"_Gil? Why do you need to talk to Gil?"_

"_We…we have history. He…I think he knows me best and I need to make sure that…that he agrees with me on this marriage."_

"_What is he, your father? You need his permission?" He was starting to get angry by this point, his fists unintentionally clenching._

"_No, Ian. I'm not asking for his permission. I…I need to clear my doubts and his, okay?"_

"_So the reason why we're postponing this marriage is Gil?"_

"_No! No! I mean…no. It's…"_

"_What, Catherine? Don't try to talk your way out of this one. You and I both know..."_

"_It's me…I…I need to know what…I need to know what to do with him."_

"_What to do with him? You think he's getting in the way of our marriage?"_

"_No…it's not that. It's just…"_

"_Come on, Cath. Just tell me what's on your mind."_

"_He and I have been friends for 22 years, almost. He's known me for longer than you've known me and I think longer than I've really known myself. He's always...always been there for me and I…I can't just…I can't just go on with this marriage without … without thinking about him."_

"_Thinking about him? What…are you saying what I think you're saying?"_

"_I just…we have things that need talking over and I just want a little time to do that and think over it myself."_

"_For god's sake, Catherine, just give me a straight answer!"_

"_I need to figure out what it is I'm feeling for him, okay?!"_

"_What?"_

"_I need to understand what…what he means to me."_

"_Wait…are you saying…"_

"_Yes, Ian. He's getting in the way of our marriage but only because I'm letting him. It's not his fault. None of this is. It's all mine. He didn't do anything, hasn't done anything to make me have these doubts. But…we have history and it's me that can't really let this go."_

"_Catherine…I thought…I thought he was just…"_

"_He was and still is. But I can't…This marriage is just making me think that I should have done some things and .. not rush into things that I haven't quite…looked at from all sides." _

"_Cath…"_

"_Don't try to talk me out of this Ian because…I know you probably could. But...I need this. I really need this to happen if our marriage is ever going to work and…if we are to stay in love."_

"_Do you love him?"_

"_I'm not going to answer that question, Ian. I can't believe you would even…ask me a question like that."_

"_Why not? Why can't you answer me, Catherine?" Ian knew he was being aggressive, but he knew he couldn't help himself._

"_No, Ian. I just…I just don't know." Then she turned around, grabbed her purse and a few things and left the hotel. _

_-----------------------------------------------------------------_


	36. Chapter 35 :: The Day Before You

**Chapter 35:****. The Day Before You**

He couldn't help himself as he slumped back into the seat that he had been occupying before. He didn't understand but he felt that somewhere deep in his heart, he knew he had made the ultimate mistake. By showing a tinge his feelings, he had already caused her confusion, caused her some form of unhappiness. He thought he had lost his will to live.

"I…"

"I think I already know what your answer is. I may be a workaholic like you, but I'm not blind. And I'm a man too, Grissom. I have felt the same feelings that you're feeling."

"Don't talk about my feelings like you understand them, Ian." Gil retorted, his anger at himself and everything else boiling up in his throat. "And don't make it sound like you know that I'm in love with her."

"But you are, Grissom. That's the part that you have yet to admit."

Gil didn't know what to say. He couldn't say he wasn't in love with her. He couldn't say that he was. It wasn't because he didn't want Ian to know; if he had been in love, he knew Ian would have known by this point. It wasn't because he wanted to hide anything from Catherine. It was because he was afraid; he was afraid because he just didn't know.

"I don't have anything else to say to you, Ian." Gil got up to leave, grabbing his jacket for the second time.

"Listen, Grissom." Ian piped up. "I don't know what exactly you're feeling for her and I realize that you don't quite understand either or you're refusing to come to terms with yourself. But it's the day before the wedding and unless Catherine officially calls it off, it's going to happen."

"Look…" Ian didn't stop him. Gil stopped, mid-sentence, trying to comprehend the message coming from his heart. He repressed it.

"No, just listen. I'm going to speak to you as a man, Grissom and I'll only say this once. I love her more than I value my life and I'm willing to sacrifice myself for her. If being with you is what is going to make her happy…I…" Ian couldn't finish his sentence but Gil understood. Gil understood that they were both in the same position.

"You don't have to finish. I understand."

"No, Grissom. I…I want you to talk to her as a man. I want her to choose her life. I don't want you to do anything to avoid her, to persuade her otherwise. I want her to make her choice, regardless of what we do in attempts to change that. So don't be afraid to talk to her or show her your feelings, Grissom. Let her choose, not us." Ian fingered his sleeves and looked at the table, refusing to look at the man he was talking to. Gil didn't know what to say, how to respond. He didn't know if he could have said what Ian just said if he was in his position. "But I just want you to be honest with me. Do you love her?"

Gil knew he couldn't let Ian down once more simply because he was too cowardly to admit his feelings. He hadn't quite come to the terms of his being hopelessly in love with Catherine Willows. He had never put it in those very words. He had never replied to the question to his satisfaction. But he didn't know if he should. He didn't even know what being satisfied with an answer meant. All his life, he loved looking for answers to questions, to puzzles or to mysteries that needed solving. But for Grissom, this was a mystery that he knew he had found all the evidence for but was too afraid to come to its conclusion.

"Stop thinking, Grissom. That's what got us here in the first place."

Gil stopped, took a deep breath. He closed his eyes.

The answer was inevitable. It had always been there, burned into the fabric of his heart and of his mind. He had simply repressed the pain and the wound that it had caused with his personal burdens, with the junk of his life. He had always been too afraid to trace the woven letters that spelled out the words.

Although it definitely wasn't, for what felt like the first time in his life, he let the evidence speak for itself.

"Yes…Yes, I am."

"That's all I needed to know."

"No, Ian. Now it's your turn to listen to me. I'm sure Catherine probably knows how I felt, even before I could admit it. And because of that, I have already caused her unhappiness, confusion and guilt once more. When she was with you, she looked happier than I'd ever seen her and I understand that I ruined that. Although she might feel like she needs me right now, I think she should be with you."

Now Ian was at a loss for words, finally bringing his head up to look at Gil.

"I'm going to talk to Catherine. I'm going to ask her what she feels and if I come to the conclusion that what she feels for me is just … just something along the lines of "what if", I'm going to let this wedding happen, with or without me. I can't make her unhappy anymore, Ian. I couldn't live with myself if I had."

"Grissom…"

"I realize that I've probably made a big mistake. I realize that I probably let her know in some form or another. It's my fault. She shouldn't have known and she didn't need to know. It was a sin that she didn't need to live with but had to because of me. Don't listen to what she said. It's my fault. She's just trying to cover up for me because she didn't want you to be angry with me. So don't be angry with her, be angry with me."

He watched as Ian downed the second drink he had ordered.

"Goddamn it, I feel like I'm just getting in the way of two stubborn people going the long way around to get to each other."

Gil hung his head and sighed. He didn't understand. But somewhere deep in his heart, he knew he could find the answer. And in that same dark corner of his heart, he was beginning to find a glimmer of hope that though he needed to destroy it, he also needed to keep it to keep on living his life.

"Although I might think you're a bastard, I don't want you to lose your will to live, Grissom. And I know it's going to happen if you don't take this chance. If you don't take this window of opportunity that I'm fighting hard to give you."

"I don't understand what you…want me to … do exactly."

"I think you know where she is right now. And I think you're the only person who does. So if you have the courage of a man who thinks he's worth loving another woman, someone like Catherine Willows, you'll go talk to her. And let her think what she thinks and let her come to me to talk as well."

"But I'm not worth her. I'm not worth even a morsel of the human remains that we step on at crime scenes."

Ian stopped. He watched Gil hang his head, almost in shame. He felt something like sympathy for the man who was about to tear his bride-to-be away from him. Even Ian Gates didn't understand what the hell was happening.

"Don't be too humble, too hesitant. A man is nothing without confidence, Grissom. Without confidence, you're no longer a man but just a pile of regrets and doubt that as you said, wouldn't be worth a second of Catherine's time."

They both stayed in silence, pondering the last statement. Gil knew Ian had torn himself up to give Gil this chance and he knew that somewhere in Ian's mind, he hoped that Gil wouldn't take his offer, that he would somehow walk away. But Gil knew that Ian thought that this was the right thing to do. He felt pity for the fiancé, for the other man that had to be perhaps as much in love with Catherine as he was.

"I've got nothing more to say to you. I feel like if you stayed any longer, I might just take back everything I've said and say 'Screw you, Gil.'"

"Thank you, Ian."

Ian just smiled and looked at the glass in his hand again. Before Ian could show any kind of emotion, Gil finally turned and left the bar just the way he had come in.

He walked out the bar, in dark jeans and a black shirt, his glasses perched on his nose, intimidating.

---------------------------------

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Gil."

"She's not answering your calls, is she?"

"I haven't bothered to try. I know she won't."

Gil was at the wheel but he didn't know where he was supposed to be going. Where she could possibly be. What she was thinking.

"I was supposed to fly out really early tomorrow morning because I had to finish something up here but she called early this morning to tell me to cancel my flight for now."

"She did?"

"She told me that she needed to think about the wedding."

"I…" Gil leaned his head against the headrest.

"What happened last night?"

"That doesn't really matter right now, does it?" Gil pulled over on a road that he had never driven on. He didn't know how far away from the strip he was. He didn't know where he could go at this hour and expect to find her there.

"Well, something big must have happened. Why would she get cold feet right now?"

"I don't know what to say."

"You can't hide things from me, Uncle Gil. I'm the daughter." Lindsey retorted, putting Gil at a loss for words once again. He sighed.

"We…we were both a little intoxicated."

"Woah. Ok. I…I didn't think things could have gotten that far."

"Lindsey, I'm sorry. I…I hate myself for having done this."

"I told you, didn't I?"

"You were right. Everyone else was right. I don't know how I let it get this far."

"Just how intoxicated were you? But I mean…if mom is having second thoughts, that means you guys weren't as intoxicated as you should have been for it to be a simple mistake that neither of you can remember."

"….right."

All Gil heard was silence. He didn't want to relive the fact that he had lost all self-control, that her well-being hadn't even been a part of the equation. He cursed.

"Shit, Lindsey. I shouldn't be calling. I … I don't deserve this."

"Ian knows, doesn't he?"

"He said he would give me a chance to talk to her."

"He wants her to choose." Lindsey concluded and Gil simply nodded, as if she was there, right next to him. "Well, if you're looking for her, I can't tell you. I would but…I don't know where she could be either."

"You have no idea?"

"Well, it's kind of up to you to find out, right? If you can find her and talk to her then maybe you guys were never a mistake to begin with. And I know you knew that already."

"Yeah. I just needed someone else's rational voice to tell me that I guess."

"It's not a mistake, Uncle Gil. I know you'll find her."

"I don't deserve you, Lindsey." Gil replied, his hand going up to his eyes to wipe unshed tears. "Thank you."

"Stop wasting time on the phone."

-----------------------------------------------------------

As Gil turned the key in its lock, his ears refused to understand to the loud echo that his empty house fired back at him. He opened the door expertly, and stepped in.

He closed the door behind him, taking his shoes off slowly, one at a time. His eyes were no longer friendly, no longer approaching anything 'in peace'. His eyes were now almost selfish, taking in what it was going to see and refusing to discuss it afterwards. Something fundamental inside him had changed because of his conversation with Ian and Lindsey.

He started to rummage through his belongings to find even a tiny piece of self-confidence with which he could start his life over. The worst part of it all was, he had no idea of what he needed to find or where he needed to find it. Something that gave him a sense of his past, a sense of all the accomplishments that were buried underneath his burden of feelings for Catherine and a sense of knowledge that he wasn't always the coward that he recently had started to make himself out to be.

He stopped thinking, took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Confidence.

The word echoed through his mind once more. He knew that he had once exuded assertiveness and self-assuredness to all his peers, to all the victims' families and to all the suspects and criminals that walked through the bars of the LVPD. But in the midst of loving Catherine, he had misplaced it, just as he had misplaced his trust.

He opened his closet and underneath the suits that hung above, he found his black bowtie, still glued tight.

He thought back to his interactions with Catherine, the speech he had handed over to her. The tux he had rented, the dress she had graced. Conrad's promotion and his political deafness. The fact that she had made up for everything that he had ever lacked. That she completed him, in more ways than one.

Everything he ever did and everything he should have done came rushing back to him in a blur and he was completely overwhelmed. It was an epiphany, one full of regrets. But this time, he knew he could fix things. He had the confidence that by finding Catherine now, he could fix it all, to the way it once was.

Or rather, to the way things should have been twenty years ago.

Placing the bowtie in his jacket pocket, he rushed out of the house, his hurried steps full of purpose.


	37. Chapter 36 :: And Her Tears Flowed Like

**Chapter 36:**** And Her Tears Flowed Like Wine**

Gil parked in the back alley of the large Walgreens on the Strip. As he closed the car door, he sighed and saw his breath light up the air in front of his eyes very briefly. The sky above him was an array of neon colors from the lights of the Strip and he heard the faint holiday carols coming from the souvenir shops nearby. He stepped onto Las Vegas Boulevard and out of the shadows of the back alleys. He suddenly felt exposed and got the feeling that there were eyes on him, watching his every move. Frowning, he fought the urge to turn back. He hoped instincts wouldn't fail him this time.

Looking left and right, he started his walk.

-------------------------------------------

She didn't know for how long she had been walking under the blinding Strip lights. She walked, her hands perched in the pockets of her slacks, her heels dragging along the pavement.

She sighed and saw her breath light up the air before her very briefly.

The night sky above her was a mix of dirty orange and dark yellow, pulling from her thoughts back to her old days. To her sometimes unmentionable yet useful past. She remembered Eddie, the nights that she had to run away from him and the time that she spent with Gil as a result. Gil again.

She shook her head, trying to be free of him for once.

As she walked mindlessly, Catherine realized that she had never taken time to just be herself and taken time to be alone with her thoughts. The time to realize what she had been missing all this time.

The time that Grissom had taken so often. Too often.

---------------------------------------------

He had never been a firm believer of fate and had always thought that he held the reins to the sled of his life. He thought he had done everything to cause all the events that had ever happened to him and had not done all the things he should have done because he was at fault. He also used to think that the fatalists were simply people who refused to take responsibility for their actions and blamed it on a force other than their own.

But it was this once that he wanted to put faith in serendipity. Utter blind faith.

Because he knew that if he and Catherine were going to find each other this time, it would be by chance, just as it had been the first time around. He realized he hadn't done anything in his life to deserve to meet her on that day twenty odd years ago.

He realized she had changed him and still did, in more ways than one.

-----------------------------------------------

Observing the tourists, workers, police officers, mothers, grandfathers, teenagers and the lovers, she realized that she was out there fishing for advice from the cold winter Vegas air, rather than the man that she knew she was supposed to be looking for.

She pulled out her cell phone from the pocket of her blazer and saw that she had no calls that she had ignored, that she had inadvertently missed. She wondered if he even cared about her whereabouts, if he had even heard about the fact that she needed time only because of him.

She started to become angry. She started to cry.

Wiping the tears away from her eyes with her jacket sleeve, she hoped her mascara wouldn't run.

'Control yourself.' She thought, as she drew in another deep breath.

She realized that he made her become true to her emotions and true to herself, in more ways than one.

---------------------------------------------------

What would he say if he did find her here? What words would allow him to adequately express how he felt?

'Catherine, I love you.'

They were simple words, words that required no thought. For once in his life, he could cut to the chase.

Listening to the sound of feet scuffling by him, he kept his eyes fixed onto the pavement, in fear that if he looked at where he was going, something would catch his eye and prevent him from going where he was truly meant to go.

He followed his instincts and wanted to go where his feet led him. He wanted to genuinely believe that he would find her because he wanted to believe that the place that his feet were meant to be was where she would inevitably be.

He was afraid of the fact that he was willing to go anywhere, for as long as it took.

-----------------------------------------------------

She didn't know what she was doing out on the Strip. She didn't know why she wasn't running to his house to confront him and she didn't know why she had to postpone the wedding. She didn't know how she could lie so easily to Ian about Gil and she didn't know how Lindsey had not asked questions when she told her that she needed time to think about the wedding. She didn't know what she was thinking and what she planned to do later tonight.

She still didn't know what she was feeling for him when she looked up and stopped, dead in her tracks.

He was walking with his eyes on the pavement, not looking up, his hands perched in his jacket pocket. She saw his breath light up the air in front of him and she drew in a cold breath of her own.

She wondered what kind of a game God was playing with her because she knew she was losing everything because of it. She was losing her conscience, her thoughts, her words and her sanity but she was giving up her heart just to be in it.

She knew that their eyes had met for a brief second when he looked up but it was too late.

She saw everything: the red and yellow lights of the car, the car skid, his body flailing from the impact and the way his struggling body fell against the hood of the black sedan. She watched as his body slid down the car and meet the pavement.

She only remembers reaching for him and feeling his warm skin. Everything else, a blur.


	38. Chapter 37 :: Here You Come Again

**Chapter 37:**** Here You Come Again**

She looked through the window into his room, watching him as he ate the food that was in front of him. She smiled, a tear rolling down her left eye.

The driver of the stray car had been caught for the theft in record time. A DUI had been given, an arrest made. Jim Brass had been made very angry, the crime lab incredibly efficient and cooperative. But for the first time, she realized how the victims felt. How it almost seemed as if the system forgave the criminals. How Justice didn't do the damage done to Gil justice.

The wedding had been called off. She could never risk or brave a wedding to a man that wasn't him, without him. His presence would have been the last confirmation she needed to go ahead with it because for her, Gil had always been her moral ground. The hand of confidence and the voice of reason. And she still couldn't figure out if it was him that was meant to be with her at the altar. Now she may never know.

Everyone was surprised at how fast he slipped out of his coma and also how fast he was able to return to stable conditions despite the serious damage he took to his head and the internal bleeding. The surgery had gone too well. He had overcome all odds. Doctors had said he may not talk or walk again. But she didn't remember anyone telling her that he could do all those things.

Just not remember anything after his college graduation.

They didn't know if it was temporary or if it was permanent amnesia. Some of them said that cases like this were very rare, that only a part of his memory had been erased. They also said that maybe it was a psychological issue; that he was repressing those memories. But they just weren't certain and that's what scared her most. How long would he have to be this way? Would she possibly have to go back to her life again, leaving him alone? Would she have to move on?

Would he ever remember her?

There were so many questions that she wanted to ask him, that she needed him to answer. When she saw him on the Strip, the question was on her lips but lost into the Vegas night.

'Do you love me?'

Now she would never know.

When she told Ian of the news, she heard him sigh and promise her that he would be at the hospital right away. He didn't tell her anything as he held her tight, while she cried like there was no tomorrow.

When she told Ian that she definitely needed to call the wedding off, he had simply nodded. As if he had already known this would happen. As if he had had the power of foresight. She wondered if Ian knew anything, if something had happened between the two of them.

"He's going to be all right, Catherine. He has to be."

For the first time, she couldn't find confidence in Ian's words.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mr. Grissom? There's someone here to see you."

Catherine heard the nurse make the introduction and when she stepped into the room, she looked into his eyes. She saw his eyes widen slightly and his jaw drop a little. She couldn't help but grin, as she thought back to the day that they were first introduced, twenty-something years ago.

"Hi, Gil."

"You know me?" He asked, droopy-eyed and wide-jawed. Although her heart shattered into little pieces and she felt tears in her eyes, she couldn't help but giggle. He was back to the way he was when she first met him, the playful Gil Grissom he had been in his youth. He had lost the wisdom of his years, the sorrow of his wisdom.

"I'm Catherine. Catherine Willows."

She saw him frown as he took her offered hand and gave it a tentative shake. His touch felt no different to her, still inciting butterflies in her stomach.

"Willows…Where do I know that name from?"

Her heart stopped.

"I can't quite come up with a name but…I think I knew a friend with that last name."

"You remember Eddie?" She asked, in disbelief.

"Eddie…that might have been the name, yes. Are you related to him?" She burst out giggling again.

"I'm his ex-wife, Gil."

"Oh. Ok." He replied, as he scratched his head. "So…how do I know you? That can't be why you would visit an old man without a memory if you only knew his friend."

"Do you remember working at a crime lab at all? Do you know where you are?"

"I've been told I'm in a hospital in Las Vegas and…I have a fleeting image of a lab but…that's about it. I don't really remember the people I supposedly worked with or knew or what the crime lab even looked like."

"Well, I was one of your co-workers." She replied, a tear finding its way down her cheek again. His eyes widened again.

"Oh, dear. I'm sorry. We must have been close?" He asked, his expression changing from one of playfulness to seriousness. "But hey, if it's any consolation, I hate the fact that I can't remember because I'm sure I would have absolutely loved it." He gave her a wink that made her melt into a puddle. She smiled her Cheshire grin.

"You've only been awake a couple of days and you're already flirting with me, Gil."

"I feel fine. Other than the fact that I can't remember anything between the years of twenty-two and the fifty-three I am now. And can I ask you a personal question that you might not want to answer?" He said, squinting one eye.

"Sure." She was still overwhelmed by this new experience. She felt like she was who she had been thirty years ago and meeting Gil Grissom for the first time. Again.

"Do you know if I … if I had feelings for you?"

Her heart stopped again but she sputtered.

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. When you walked into the room, I kind of…felt something…in here," he said, gesturing to his chest, "but I guess that could be something silly. Like…I don't know. I mean…if I'm attracted to you now, that means I was twenty years ago or even yesterday, doesn't it?"

She laughed, her left sleeve going up to wipe her eyes again.

"I guess so. Except you never told me."

"Yeah. I'm not sure if I would have been able to be this direct with someone if I hadn't lost my memory." His face fell again, as his eyes lost their focus. "You don't know how scary it is. How it just seems like I woke up from my nap but… twenty years passed by."

She simply listened, fighting the urge to break down once again.

"I don't know who I've been. I don't know any of the things I've done. I don't even know where my home is, where my family is. I've just been told that I have no next of kin and no family. I've been able to figure out as much that I was probably a workaholic, leaving no time for an actual personal life. I was probably a ghost living in the crime lab that I was working at, not being quite social."

"Well, I guess losing your memory didn't affect your judgment." She replied, and he nodded as he smiled a bittersweet smile. Then he surprised her as he stood up from his bed and walked over to her, offering her his arm.

"Want to help me retrace my steps, Catherine? My heart tells me that…you just might be the key to my past." He told her, sincerely.

Hearing her name from his lips again and seeing his innocent, unknowing look, she didn't know what to say or what to do. She felt completely lost. But she shook her head, knowing that she should do what she knew was right in her heart.

She took his arm.

"Of course."


	39. Chapter 38 :: Here That Rainy Day

**Chapter 38:**** Here That Rainy Day**

They were in the same foyer in front of the hospital where they had shared their first kiss.

But of course, Catherine was the only one that remembered. Destiny was cruel.

As they walked arm in arm, she felt as if she had just been thrown twenty years back with him and a part of her was telling her to start anew with him, here and now. Throw away everything before this day and live her life along the course that she was thrown on. But something was holding her back and she didn't know how to get rid of it.

"So…are my other co-workers going to be visiting me?"

"Yeah, they…promised to come tomorrow."

"That means you must have been the one closest to me." He said, looking at her with that look of his. She looked up and smiled as she nodded. "How long have we known each other, Catherine?"

"In days, months, or years?" She asked, remembering the day Gil had said the same thing to her. Then he stopped in his tracks.

"Did…did I say that?"

"What?"

"I remember saying that. At some point, somewhere. Somewhere gray. An office, maybe." He was frowning, his eyes moving from left to right. He looked at her, with newfound eyes. She saw the Gil that he was yesterday flash before her. "I … I said that to you. Didn't I?"

She couldn't help herself as she started to cry again. She collapsed onto the bench that they were standing near. After a moment of silence, she heard him approach her.

"I'm so sorry I'm doing this to you, Catherine. But…you're the only one who can help me."

Her eyes clouded by her tears, she felt him reach for her right hand and lace his fingers with hers. Her heart was still racing, her mind reeling from the contact. She didn't know how this new physical contact was more intense than the kiss they had shared, here in the same place.

"I realize…I realize that we were really close and that…it must break your heart to see me like this but…you have to walk me through the past thirty years of my life. It's the only hope I have at remembering anything." He begged, squeezing her hand even tighter. "Just now, when you said that, I had a rush of distant images and feelings that I didn't quite understand but I know that they must have been a part of my past."

When she didn't reply, his hand left hers and he kneeled before her. She gasped involuntarily as he wiped her tears from her eyes, his touch feather soft. She involuntarily leaned into his touch, as he caressed her cheek. She didn't know what she was doing, what he was doing. What had changed in her. What had changed in him.

Then he suddenly froze.

"Are you engaged?"

She looked up and found him more confused than ever. He looked conflicted, frustrated and angry at the fact that he couldn't remember.

"Yeah. I am."

"Oh…you…you aren't engaged to me, are you?" He asked, trying to find answers. A frown never left his face.

"No, I'm not. His name is Ian." She replied.

"I…I don't know why but I…even now, I'm a little disappointed." He confessed, breaking her heart again. She didn't know if there would be anything left in her to love anyone else after this ordeal. But what made her afraid was the fact that she wanted to be here, even though she knew it would destroy her. She heard him chuckle and she watched as he stood up and offered her his hand again.

"Take me to my house."

-----------------------------------------------------

She knew he recognized the echo that the key made as it turned in its lock because she felt his hand tense as it squeezed hers tighter. When she opened the door and smelled the familiar scent that was unique to Gil's abode, she looked back at him. Gil looked like a kid coming into a museum for the first time, wide-eyed and observant.

"Well…here we are."

She closed the door behind him and watched as he took off his shoes and tiptoe into his own house. She followed him as he toured around his house, looking at all the bug specimens on his wall, the books and the pictures featured in her bookcase and all his furniture.

"I…I know I like bugs, but…boy." He grumbled, making her giggle again.

He smiled as he picked up a picture of the team from his bookcase.

"Hey, you're in this picture."

She came up to him, close enough to peer over his shoulder. Her hands gently placed on his waist, she looked at the picture over his shoulder and she smiled.

"Yeah. And those guys, you'll see tomorrow."

"Right. I wish I could remember their names. It looks like it says…Stokes…and Brown?"

"Mhm. Nick Stokes and Warrick Brown." She replied, leaning her chin on his shoulder. She hated to admit that she enjoyed this newfound relationship between herself and Gil. As if they had slipped back to their youth when everything was exciting. When their relationship still had a world of possibilities before them.

When he put the picture back down, she stepped away from him and sat down on a chair, watching as he stepped down into his kitchen. He looked around and found the picture of himself and Sara in the trashcan next to the fridge.

"Who is she?"

"That's Sara. Sara Sidle. She's also one of your co-workers."

"Oh. Why is this picture in the trashcan?"

"That…I can't answer."

She watched on as he studied himself in the picture and the girl next to him. She knew that he realized that they had had a special relationship but when he placed it back into the trashcan, she couldn't help herself as she sighed a sigh of relief.

"Well, I couldn't have misplaced that in the trashcan. If I threw a picture away, there must have been a valid reason."

He looked back at her. She smiled and nodded. He smiled back and continued his tour around his home.

"Can you still hear me from here?" He shouted and she smiled.

"Yes, Gil."

"Then can I say I have a lot more clothing than I thought I would?"

She laughed, fidgeting with her jacket sleeve again.

As she sat by herself, she realized that perhaps this was the change that they both needed to move on. Maybe this was the sign that told her that they weren't meant to be and when they tried to find each other, tragedies followed.

Or maybe this was the fresh start she needed to truly find out what she felt for this man.

Because she knew that she had retraced her steps and she was observing her own behavior around him, with a curious eye.

She was surprised when he stepped back out and gestured for her to come down. She obliged, wondering why he wanted her to come down to his bedroom.

"I can't keep shouting questions."

He grabbed her hand as he stepped into the bedroom.

The first thing she noticed was the unmade bed, and she fought the urge to start crying again. She remembered the night with him and wished she could blame everything on the intoxication.

----------------------------------------------------------------

_Her eyes slowly opened, squinting as the bright light assaulted her eyes that had struggled to become accustomed to the darkness the night before. As her mind and the previous night came back to her, she realized that she was ensconced in his arms. _

_The sense of touch came back to her first. She felt his arms surround her, one of his hands resting on her stomach and the other holding her own. She felt her back flush with his chest. She felt her legs entangled with his own. _

_Smell. _

_She smelled his lack of cologne. Smelled the sweat on the covers, the vodka on his breath. On her own. She smelled the aftermath of the rainstorm._

_Taste._

_She still tasted the alcohol in her mouth and tasted the lemon. She remembered the taste of his mouth. _

_She turned around slowly and she froze as he stirred. She looked at his face, asleep without a care in the world. A smile had never left his face._

_She felt him draw her in even tighter, his hands coming to rest on her waist. Again._

"_Catherine…" He mumbled, and she gasped. His lips came down to kiss her head again and she closed her eyes. She didn't know how much longer she could endure the sweet torture. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. _

_So instead of tearing away her weakness, she tore away her heart. _

_She ran._

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------_

She gulped down a sob as she watched him take a seat on the bed.

"I didn't make the bed. That's really not like me."

"It isn't?"

"No…I'm usually meticulous about things. But I'm sure you knew that before I did." He replied, smiling. She wanted to break down and start crying again because she realized he didn't remember any of it. She didn't know if she should tell him that they had slept together just a couple of nights ago. That they had shared something unspeakable and that she had committed something unmentionable. That she didn't regret any of it.

He opened the drawers to the nightstand next to his bed and fished out a photo frame. She walked to his side, sitting on the bed next to him.

"You have a daughter?"

She nodded.

"Her name's Lindsey."

"When was this taken? Doesn't really look like that long ago."

He had stuck in two photos into the frame, one of Catherine and Lindsey and one of himself and Catherine. Lindsey and Catherine were laughing together, probably at a joke that Gil threw out. In the other picture, she was standing with him, her head leaning on his bare chest, her arms wrapped around his waist. His head leaning on hers, his right arm around her petite form. His left hand was reaching to hold her right hand.

"That was about…two months ago."

She watched as he studied the picture, trying to read their expressions. She saw his thumb going up to caress the picture of the two of them together. She knew he was trying to envision the memory, trying to relive the contented expression on both of their faces.

"I wish I could remember. I really do."

She sighed and she had to look away to keep herself from crying.

"I'm sorry." He muttered.

"Don't be. It's not your fault." She looked into his eyes again, and watched as a tear rolled out of his own eyes.

"I hate the fact that I don't remember any of this. I don't remember being this happy and I don't remember…Goddamn it!" He stood up suddenly, and grasped his head.

"Gil…shhh…it's okay." She stood up with him and reached for his hand. She led him back onto his bed, sitting him down. "Getting angry isn't going to solve anything. I know it's frustrating, believe me."

"I'm so sorry, Catherine." He whispered as he cried. He laid back, sobbing into his pillow. Her heart breaking for what felt like the hundredth time that day, she joined him. She let him bury his head in her chest, his tears soaking through her shirt. His arms came around her waist to hold her like there was no tomorrow. She felt him grasping at her shirt, at her, trying to get a sense of who he had been, what kind of things he had felt before the accident.

She listened as he sobbed and moaned into her body and she let herself go. Crying with him, she realized that she had never shared such a heart-to-heart with Ian. She had never shared such an intimate and such a personal moment with the man that she almost married.

Maybe this accident was the excuse she needed to postpone the marriage.

As she caressed his head, running her fingers through his hair, he was starting to calm down. As he rode out through the last twitches of sobbing, he sighed, hugging her tighter.

"Why is it that I can be so comfortable with you although I only met you today? Technically I've known the nurses longer, but…somewhere in my heart I feel that I've known you…almost my whole life." He whispered, pulling his face away from her. He moved up to look into her eyes. "I know I don't always do physical contact easily but…you feel right, somehow. You…here…with me. You in my arms, me in yours."

"I'm glad, Gil." She replied, her heart aching. Her fingers never stopped caressing his hair, his cheek, trying to calm him down. She could tell that he was enjoying her touch, his eyes slowly closing as she massaged his head. But she knew she was enjoying his just as much. She felt his hands on her waists, the spots that were familiar to his hands and his only. He leaned forward, kissing the top of her head again, multiple times. Her eyes closed involuntarily, again. He hadn't forgotten just how much he could make her feel like she was on fire.

She knew they were dangerously close. Dangerously close to committing the same crime they had committed only several days ago.

"Thank you. For being here." He whispered.


	40. Chapter 39 :: Adding to the Noise

**Chapter 39:**** Adding to the Noise**

When they returned to the hospital, both of them were faced with a barrage of warnings against leaving again and a flood of reprimands. They said she should have known better, knowing his condition. They said he needed to calm down, that they would help him. Gil and Catherine had shared secret smiles.

Putting him back into his hospital bed and hooking him up to his IV again, the nurses tried to make Catherine leave with them. Gil had protested to the degree where they thought that taking her away was unhealthy for him.

"She's the closest thing I've got to a next of kin." That had silenced them.

As Catherine held his hand, all he did was stare at her, unabashedly.

"Tell me stories. Anecdotes about…me. About you. About us."

"You don't want to hear about work? About all the things you've said? The things you've quoted? The cases that got to you?" She asked, looking back into his inquisitive eyes. He smiled as he shook his head.

"None of those things matter to me now. I'm an old man without an inkling of memory about how to do my work, what it consisted of. I realize, though, that while I was…when I was…me, that my work was all that mattered. How foolish. I mean…what does my work do for me now? Nothing. It's you that's here. It's the people that are left."

She nodded. She wondered if Gil had thought these things before. If she had ever been a part of the grand equation that had been his life.

"You and I met on a case twenty two years ago. I was a stripper," she said.

"Exotic dancer." He corrected. When she looked at him in disbelief, he simply shrugged. "I just don't like the term. Especially if it applies to you."

"…anyway," she continued, "I thought you were cute and also different because you didn't drool as you checked me out like all the others."

"I probably just didn't drool when you were looking." He replied as he smiled. "Go on."

"We met a couple of other times when you came by the club and soon after, we got to talking and…you're the one that got me interested in being a CSI. You took me under your wing and helped me go through a degree in college and eventually get a job at the crime lab."

"Okay." He listened, intently. She wondered if he remembered any of it. "If you're wondering, I don't remember any of this yet. Tell me something else."

"You came over to the hospital when I had Lindsey and almost dropped her when you tried to hold her."

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry."

She laughed, caressing his hand.

"That was about eighteen years ago, so don't worry Gil. Besides, you were the one that put her to sleep when she wouldn't stop crying to save her life."

"Good."

"You remember Conrad Ecklie?"

"No. I mean…I don't remember someone like you, and you expect me to remember someone with a name like that?" He joked. She chuckled.

"Well he split our shift up once, making me the supervisor of Swing shift. But we discovered two bodies covered in tar and you got really excited about that."

"Typical." He replied, yawning.

"I think maybe you should get some sleep." She told him, checking her own watch.

"I think maybe you should tell me more stories." He retorted, making her smile. "If you're tired, please let me know. You can leave whenever you want."

"I'm not leaving you. Not after what you told the nurses."

"Sorry if I embarrassed you with…that." He told her, looking completely sincere. She smiled at him. She thought she was smiling more than she had ever been. Than when he had been himself. Or not himself. She didn't know anymore.

"No, not at all. I'm flattered, if anything." She replied, being completely sincere. She knew he had understood when he closed his eyes.

"I'm listening."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

He had fallen asleep while listening to her comforting voice and the stories that seemed too new to him. Too unfamiliar. She had fallen asleep at his side while watching him, hoping for signs that he had regained his memory. The signs that never came.

The next morning, Catherine found herself, not sitting but lying down. When she opened her eyes, she realized that she was the one in the hospital bed and he the one sitting by her bedside. Gil woke up from his brief nap when her body snapped up.

"Gil! I'm so sorry!"

"No, it's okay. I'm the one who put you there. You looked so uncomfortable, I thought I should." He replied, holding a hand up to calm her. "I just woke up myself. Don't worry."

"I can't believe I let you carry me. You shouldn't do things like that when you're not completely healed yourself!" She told him, as she started to get up from the bed.

"You're starting to sound like the drones in white that come by here every now and then." Gil responded, receiving a dirty look from Catherine. He jutted out his lower lip, pouting. He saw her falter at his gesture and he pushed on.

"Well at least you haven't forgotten your good manners. And your ability to always be the one taking care of me, somehow." He knew he had moved her once again. "And also the fact that your pout never fails to make me feel sorry for whatever I've just done."

He laughed.

Suddenly, she saw him stop, his eyes moving frantically again.

"What? What did you just remember?"

"Your upper lip."

"What?"

He looked up at her, in disbelief himself. He shook his head as he faked a smile.

"Nothing, it's nothing."

"No, Gil, tell me, what is it?" She asked, running to come to his side. "What did you just see? I need to jog your memory while it's coming back to you."

"I…I remember thinking something about your upper lip." He looked almost ashamed to be telling her this. "I don't know how and I don't know why. All I remember is…touching it."

She gulped back yet another sob. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know where she would have to draw the line between what she should share with him and what she should leave for him to find out himself.

They were snapped back to reality when they heard a series of knocks on the door.

"Come in!" Catherine shouted, stepping a step away from him. She saw him look at her curiously out of the corner of her eye.

Nick, Warrick, Sara, Greg, Wendy, Hodges, Jim and Sofia had shown up, all holding something in their hands. They came into the room, each with a bittersweet smile of their own. She watched Gil's expression turn from surprise to absolute fascination. She helped him stand up from his chair and when the team was all in the room, Jim closed the door.

"Nice to see you're up and about, boss." Greg was the first to pipe up, raising his hand. "I'm Greg, by the way. The CSI that could have been a rocker."

"Wait…Greg…Greg…Greg Sa…Sanders?" Gil asked, and the whole team gasped.

"Yes! That's me! I'm Greg Sanders, Grissom, do you remember me?" Greg stepped forward, excitedly.

"Just the name…it rings a bell." Gil replied, the frown coming back to the place between his eyebrows. Catherine watched as Greg grinned from ear to ear.

"Then let me make the introductions because these turds are all too shy to make their own." Greg replied, pointing first at Nick. "This is Nick Stokes. The quarterback from Texas A&M turned CSI."

"Yes, Nick. I remember you from the picture in my house." Gil replied, extending his hand to Nick who fought back a tear as he grasped Gil's hand and gave it a firm shook.

"Nice to see you again, Gris."

"This is Warrick Brown. The gambling man who is no more."

"Warrick Brown. Nice to meet you." Warrick said, extending his hand to Grissom who took it gladly, smiling. "I can't believe this happened to you man. Of all people."

"Thank you." Gil replied. Catherine knew he was fighting back the anger that started to bile up in him.

"Um…Sara, want to introduce yourself?" Greg asked. "Need to go to the bathroom really quickly." Greg ran out of the room, too eager to come back.

"Hi, Grissom. I'm…I'm Sara Sidle. The CSI that you brought in from San Francisco. We met at one of your seminars on forensic entomology." She introduced herself cordially, to Catherine's amazement.

"The girl in the picture. I'm sorry…I…don't have any recollection." He replied, extending his hand out to her as well. Sara took it, biting her lip. Catherine knew how hard it was for all of them because it was incredibly difficult for her to do it in the beginning.

Catherine turned around as the introductions made their way around the team. She just couldn't bear to see everyone's pain-ridden faces because she knew they only increased her own. Facing the window, she wiped tears away again and hoped Gil wouldn't see her. She turned back around just in time to see Jim embracing Gil with tears streaming down his eyes.

"You of all people. You." It broke her heart to see Jim in tears again. Jim, the man who had been strong for the team countless times when they all couldn't be strong for themselves. "Come back soon, you hear?"

She saw Gil bite his trembling lip and clench his fists that were now forming, with parts of Jim's blazers in their grasp.

"I'll try my best, Jim. I'll try my best."


	41. Chapter 40 :: When the World Leaves

**Chapter 40:**** When the World Leaves**

"Hope to see you soon, boss."

Although the team knew that if Grissom was let out of the hospital, he wouldn't be able to come back to work with a dysfunctional memory, they uttered their words of hope, their prayers to him, wishing that the old Grissom would somehow hear their pleas and come back to them. That Gil's memory would somehow play God this time around.

Catherine knew that Gil wanted desperately to oblige them but became so angry with himself when he realized he just couldn't do it as easily as it seemed.

As they left the room and closed the door behind them, Catherine came to stand by his bed, where he was now sitting. It had already turned dark outside.

"Overwhelmed?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." He replied, looking up at her to throw her a smile. "You didn't leave."

"Should I?" She asked, now sitting down next to him.

"The strange thing is, none of them expected you to leave with them. They took it for granted that you stayed."

"Well, they know that we're tight." She replied, her left hand reaching out to give his thigh a reassuring squeeze. He surprised her by covering her hand with his. He laced their fingers once more and she wet her lips.

"Doesn't your fiancé worry? If I was him, I might be worried sick." He asked, sounding almost bitter and disappointed. He refused to make eye contact with her while he asked his question and she frowned. She watched him look at their intertwined fingers.

"I told him I needed a few days alone with you."

"When was your wedding supposed to be?" He asked and she felt him caress her hand with his thumb.

"The day after your accident."

Her response made him look up into her eyes, his look one of concern.

"I'm sorry, Catherine. I…"

"Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault. Besides, I…I was going to postpone it anyway before it happened." Catherine replied, surprising herself with her honesty. She knew that she would have never had the courage to reveal her thoughts had this accident never happened. She cursed destiny.

"Oh." He exclaimed, tightening his grip on her hand. "Want to share?"

She chuckled, swinging her legs on the side of the bed.

"You know, it's strange. We never did this before the accident."

"Hold hands while sitting on the side of a hospital bed?"

"That too."

"Then what?"

"Just…share. Share our honest-to-god thoughts. Share our feelings. Our life stories."

"I guess this was meant to happen then." She was surprised at his simple reply. She looked at him for an answer. "I think this opportunity was given to me so that I could change. So that I could possibly be a better friend and a better man for you."

"I guess so." She agreed, giving his hand a squeeze back.

"I'm sorry I hadn't been honest with you Catherine. I'm sorry we never took time to share." He asserted, looking into her eyes once more. "If…if my memory ever comes back, I promise I'll remember the fact that I told you this."

As she looked into his eyes, she became aware of the world around them: the silent hospital room, the faint sound of the IV fluid dripping into the tube, the distant sounds of cars, the sound of foot traffic outside his door and the crisp linens of the hospital bed.

"You never answered my question."

"I…I needed time to think about my marriage." She told Gil, who almost didn't seem surprised. "Is that what you expected?"

"I don't know. I don't know what I expected but for some reason, it seems as if I knew that somehow." His eyes turned their focus onto their joined hands again. "Somewhere in my mind, I think I knew that you were having doubts. Maybe it's because you're still here with me instead of your fiancé. Maybe it's because I haven't really seen you guys talk on the phone. I think if all was well, he would be visiting you here. You would probably leave my room a little more often. Or maybe it's because I knew that before the accident and I'm remembering something."

She nodded, turning her attention to their hands as well. They sat there, in a comfortable silence, both of them knowing that they understood the other's thoughts. Perhaps even the other's emotions as well.

"I'm not sure if I could leave you before you regain some of your memory."

"But what if that never happens?" He asked, tears coming back to his eyes. "What if I get released from the hospital because I'm perfectly healthy but I still can't remember a thing?"

"I'm not going to think that far. For now, all that matters to me is that you regain your memory. And I know it will happen, one way or another."

"But is that the only reason you're staying here? With me?"

She realized that losing his memory had not affected his ability to observe, his ability to read her mind.

She realized that it was time to tell him. Tell him what she had on her mind.

But she realized she just didn't have the strength yet. Although it seemed like the perfect place, time and context, she just couldn't do it. And she knew Gil understood, when he brought her hand up to his lips and gave it a tender kiss.

"Never mind. I know you'll share with me when you feel that the time is right. I realize I've been pushing you too much. I've been inconsiderate. Forgive me." He told her, slowly letting go of her hand. She nodded and sighed. "You sound exhausted. Go home. Get some sleep. Come back early in the morning."

"Too lazy. I'll just sleep in the chair."

"No way."

She saw as he reached for the phone and politely ask the nurse to bring in a guest bed. The next thing she knew, she was in a bed lower than his, next to his.

She was falling asleep when she heard him mumble.

"I would have been really sad if you had left."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Catherine was the one to wake up first.

She silently slipped out of the room and went to the nurses to convince them to let her take his breakfast to them. By this point, the nurses knew it was futile to resist and they simply smiled when Catherine came up to them with the request.

"Breakfast in bed, my master."

Gil opened his eyes to the sound of her voice and she watched as the grin spread out on his face. She brought the table to him, settling it down on his lap.

"Thank you…grasshopper."

Surprised, she looked at him again for an explanation. He grinned.

"I remembered that. Somehow, master to grasshopper."

She laughed, her hands going up to her mouth.

"Do I get an award? I think if I get compensated for each thing I remember, it might make this process a lot easier."

"Well this breakfast is your award for that one." She replied, her right hand going up to brush a few stray hairs from his forehead. Grinning another ear-to-ear, he started to eat.

"I'll be right back." She said, leaving the room.

She fished out her cell phone from her pocket, looking at the five missed calls, all from Ian. She pressed the speed dial designated for his number.

"Catherine?"

"Hi, Ian. I'm sorry I haven't been answering my phone."

"That's all right. Thank you for calling. I know you're having a hard time."

"Yeah, I am."

"Look, I just wanted to say that…if you or…Gil need anything, you can let me know at any time."

"Ian…"

"Yes?"

"I think…I think you should go back to Seattle."

"….you do?"

"It…doesn't look like he's going to regain his memory any time soon and…you already know that I can't go through with this wedding without him present. It's going to be at least another week for him to be simply be released from the hospital. Just…go back. I'll call you every now and then with updates."

She just heard a heavy sigh as a reply. She hated to do this to him, to be breaking his heart one more time. She knew that he believed that she was choosing Gil over him, that she would never get married to him in the end. That this was all just an excuse to be around Gil more. She couldn't bring herself to admit that there was a degree of truth to his beliefs.

"If…if you think me leaving will make it easier for you, then…I guess that's what I will do."

"It's going to be easier for both me and you. I'm sure you feel no better spending money in a hotel and just waiting around for a call from me or from the hospital."

"I guess you're right. Oh, and Lindsey called. She's arriving in Las Vegas today."

"She is? Why didn't she tell me about this?"

"You weren't answering your phone."

"Right, right."

"She told me to tell you that she made arrangements with her old friends to stay at their houses and that she hopes you will pick up the next time she calls."

"Ok. Thanks, Ian."

"Anything for you."

They both hung up at the same time, neither of them knowing when their next call would be. If there would ever be another one.

She came back into the room, her face obviously showing signs of concern.

"Something wrong?"

Gil had already finished the small amount of food that had been prepared for him and was now sitting up in his bed, fidgeting with his fingers.

"No…I mean…yeah. I just…I just told Ian to go back to Seattle."

"He's from Seattle?"

"Well…I moved away to Seattle when I was offered the position of assistant director there. That's where I met him. He's the director there." She replied and to her this was almost like the time that she was telling him that she was leaving him.

"You broke my heart."

She didn't like the fact that she was being surprised so many times a day. She scanned his face for signs of epiphanies.

"I just remembered that…you came into my office…crying…told me that you didn't have a choice…that this was for you and Lindsey…and ran out." He looked troubled again. She quickly came to his side again, holding his hand with both of her own. "I just remember that it's a very painful memory. For some reason, my heart reacted to that before my head did."

"I'm sorry, Gil."

"You've probably already apologized too, right? We made up before this, right?" He asked, squinting his left eye in thought. She nodded enthusiastically and he smiled. "Do I get another award?"

"Hey, Gil?"

"Yes, Catherine?"

"Let's go visit your office."

---------------------------------------------------------------

Walking hand in hand into the crime lab, Catherine realized that it had been almost two years since the last time that she stepped foot into the LVPD crime lab.

The blue glow of the machines and the fluorescent lights assailed her eyes once more and she was hit with a strong flare of nostalgia. She looked to Gil for signs of a similar thought, and saw him frown, looking at everything.

"Remember anything?"

"Maybe. It all feels like a déjà vu."

"That's a good sign, right? Means you didn't completely lose your memory. It means we can still save it." She told him, squeezing his right hand that now rested in her left.

"By the way, this isn't exactly the kind of reward I had in mind." He told her, and she laughed.

"Grissom!"

Greg was the first to notice the couple and came running to them. He looked to Catherine for an explanation but when she simply shook her head, his face fell a little bit.

"Welcome back. Coming to refresh your memory, so to speak?" He asked and Gil nodded. "Good, good. I need to run this DNA to the lab but I will join up with you guys later."

Catherine nodded but Gil was too caught up with everything in the lab that he forgot to reply. As they walked around the lab to all the different stations, he looked at everything and anything, hoping that something would stir his memory. He obliged everyone's waves and greetings with a look of complete confusion.

When they finally arrived at his office, she looked at him before opening the door.

"Are you ready for this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." He replied, giving her hand an affirmative squeeze. She smiled and opened the door.

The familiar scent assailed her nose and she assumed it did the same for Gil. His office hadn't changed a bit from last she remembered. The specimens were all there, his desk still in shambles from all the paperwork that had come to pile up. She made a mental note to tell Nick to take care of the paperwork for now.

She closed the door behind him and let go of his hand. As if in a trance, he walked around his office, wide-eyed and his jaw slightly open. He touched the glass jars holding everything from eyeballs to cicadas, his fingers lingering. Eventually, he made his way to his chair and sat it in, fitting in perfectly right away. To Catherine, he was almost as he had been two years ago, his hand cradling his chin and his look intent on figuring out this puzzle.

She found her spot in the chairs facing his desk and when he met her eyes, she smiled.

"Remember? I always used to sit here and complain to you about everything?"

"No, not really."

"I guess that just means you only pretended to listen." She replied, trying to make light of the grim situation. She knew that to the unknowing observer, they looked the way they had two years ago.

"But this chair feels familiar. This view of the lab seems familiar. It's all a déjà vu. I feel like I saw it in a dream."

"Well, that dream is your life. Anything else you remember?"

"Umm…I think I remember seeing a pig. A fetal pig. In one of those glass jars. But it's not there."

"You gave that to me, as an office warming gift. I have it in my home at Seattle." She told him, smiling genuinely. He nodded, his lips finding a hint of a smile.

"Reward?"

"You're never going to let up on that, are you?"

She stood up again, making her way around his desk. She pointed out certain things on his desk to him and he listened as if he was hearing all these things for the first time. He was learning his trade again. The remnants of his life.

Then, Nick came into the office.

"Now there's a sight I always love to see." He commented, leaving the door behind him open. But he had something in his hand, behind his back. "I've got something for you, Grissom."

He revealed Grissom's CSI vest, his name embroidered in white letters on the flap of the pocket on the chest. Catherine saw Gil freeze, eyeing the object carefully.

"Hey, Nick…is there a…a pair of latex gloves in the left pocket?"

Nick froze too, gulping before reaching into the left pocket and pulling out a pair of white latex gloves. Nick looked at Catherine with bewildered eyes and she responded with a grin. Gil simply smiled and she knew he felt smug. He gave her a knowing look and she huffed. Reaching down with her right hand, she ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, caressing and massaging gently. He hummed, contentedly. Nick eyed the two of them with a raised eyebrow.

"Well if you two are done with your foreplay, Jim and I are ready to take you guys out on a scene. Griss, you ready?"

Gil opened one of his eyes and nodded.

"Some things never change, I guess." Nick commented, smiling as he turned to walk out the door. When Nick closed the door behind him, she removed her hand.

"Are you sure you're ready for this? To go out on a crime scene already? You're technically not even released from the hospital."

"Well, we're just going to hear a whole lot of non-sense about me and being healthy, I suppose. This time, I'm telling them you took me out at gunpoint."

"Then they would never let me back in."

"Hm. I guess that won't work then." He replied, standing up from his spot on the chair. "What is it, a 419?"

She almost passed it off. His use of LVPD jargon almost passed by unnoticed. When she whipped around to look at him, she realized he didn't quite know what he had said.

"You…you just said 419."

Then he froze, while putting his jacket back on.

"It just…it just rolled off my tongue. I said it without…without thinking." He looked at her again, with bewildered eyes. "I feel like I'm…I'm discovering my life again one word at a time."

She grinned and tiptoed up to give him a kiss on his cheek.

"I think this is going to make my remembering a lot easier."


	42. Chapter 41 :: Smoke Gets In Your Memory

**Chapter 41:**** Smoke Gets in Your Memory**

_**Author's Note: I wrote this chapter way before the CSI:Miami episode ever came out. Strange. They're reading my mind, too. I'm sorry I haven't updated. Life's caught up with me but it's spring break! Wait some more updates and oh…Listen to "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes" by Beegie Adair when you're reading this chapter. Have it on repeat. Seriously. It gets more important later.**_

The crime scene therapy had limited benefits.

The smell of blood had been familiar, familiar enough to keep him from vomiting. He had forgotten much of the protocol but he remembered a surprising amount of procedures for a man who was diagnosed with amnesia. It reaffirmed Catherine's belief that his memory was just getting prepared to come back.

She started to think that maybe he was repressing the memories. Maybe it was because somewhere in his heart, Gil wanted to start anew. He wanted to throw away his past and be born again. She started to think that maybe it wasn't so important that he regained his memory.

He surprised her by asking her if she would indulge him and take a walk with him on the Strip. She gladly obliged, hoping that sights and smells would jog his memory. But all the meanwhile, she was afraid that if Gil's memory came back, their relationship dynamic would change yet again.

Greg dropped them off in front of the huge MGM Grand sign, driving off hurriedly afterwards due to the honking from all directions. They started to walk towards the Bellagio and fell into a comfortable rhythm and silence.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked, breaking the silence as they neared the giant coke bottle.

"About what it would feel like to regain my memory." He responded, looking around him. She smiled, realizing that she had been thinking about the same thing. "But I'm not sure if it's going to get better. I have a feeling that although there will be lots of pleasant memories, the ones that will come first are the painful ones."

She nodded, her hands finding her pockets again.

"What about you, Catherine? What's on your mind?"

"The exact same thing and that the Strip really is too bright sometimes." She replied, turning briefly to look up at him. She saw him smile his signature half-smile and she grinned back. When she looked back ahead, she felt his left arm come around her and hold her closer. She acquiesced, leaning her head on her shoulder and putting her arm around his back as they walked. "You know, we haven't done this in a while."

"Cuddle?"

"That too." They recognized the familiar thread of conversation and they both chuckled. "Walk on the Strip together. We used to do this sometimes when we worked cases and came out here for breaks, hotdogs and such."

"I wish I remembered that."

She smiled at his subtle, flirtatious compliment and she knew he was smiling too.

"So who are you? Who is the Gil that has his arm around me? Obviously not the Gil that I knew before."

"Evidently, the more fun Gil." He responded, chuckling. "I'm just…I'm just a typical guy, Catherine. Or at least…I felt typical until I met you."

"Met me two days ago?" She asked and she knew he sensed her sarcasm.

"Yeah. And now I feel like I'm in the middle of this…giant, epic, dramatic movie. I feel different. I feel like I stand out from this crowd of people we're amongst because I have this beautiful lady in my arms."

"You're apparently a lot more true to your feelings and out-spoken." She blushed at his compliment. She was blushing a lot more recently. "You would never tell me that if you were sane."

"But what is sanity, Catherine? I suppose when I grew older, I also grew duller."

"Don't we all?"

She was enjoying this comfortable conversation that they were having. Although she had had this conversation with him before, she started another conversation about life philosophies.

"So what do you think about life now, Gil? I mean…for all you know, you're twenty two." She smiled at the thought of a very young Gil, just freshly graduated from college and clueless.

"Right now, I think…life is full of opportunities, full of chances. As a twenty-two year old, I'm inclined to think that I still have the world in front of me, have forever ahead of me. The universe to learn about. But…waking up and smelling the fifty all of a sudden, makes me think…life is short, you know? And…I don't think I…came to that understanding and wouldn't have if I hadn't been in this accident. From what I can tell, I don't think I risked anything, took chances or acted spontaneously. I understand now that life is too short to live according to plan all the time. A plan that you make when you're young. Life needs to change, our outlook on life needs to change as we age. I think this accident was that kind of a change of scene, that helped me understand myself, come to terms with my values and what I should hold important to my heart." Gil responded, his every word sincere and from the bottom of his heart. "I never used to believe in fate. But now…I think some things are really meant to happen and coincidences don't really exist."

Listening to his words, Catherine felt moved. Somewhere in her heart, she knew Gil had gotten the epiphany that he had desired, the change of outlook that he had needed. The enlightenment that she had tried to show him during the time that they had been friends. But he had always turned her away and closed himself off from the world. She didn't know if she should thank God that this accident happened. That he had lost his memory.

"What about you, Catherine? Who are you? What do you think life is?"

"I…want to have faith in people. I want to believe that though people are capable of anything and people do impossible things to each other, we still have chance for… redemption. I think…in the end, people are the only wealth we ever have, especially the ones we love like our children. Money means nothing when we're dead and…it can all disappear. Just like reputation, fame, what other people think of us. I think it's always important to…be to true to oneself and do what's right by our hearts. So that we have no regrets, no looking back. Life is who you have around you and what you decide to do with those resources."

"I completely agree. I see now that…though we are a destructive race, a doomed species…our capacity for love is…overwhelming and the idea of…commitment is…incredible and beautiful." He added, unconsciously drawing her closer. "So do you not have any regrets, Catherine?"

She chuckled, shaking her head.

"I wish I could be as true to myself as I say. Do as I say, not as I do."

"It's hard. Although we all know that society shouldn't control us, it does because it's inevitable. The people that we love are all part of society and we're all…prejudiced in so many ways, it's ridiculous. It's not your fault, Catherine. It's the fault of the people. It's everyone's fault." He replied, leaning his head on hers, as a sign of confirmation. They walked that way for the rest of the Strip in silence, except for when Catherine pointed out little things and related events that had happened to him or her or the both of them. He seemed to be getting nearer to reviving his old self but she felt like he had changed, forever.

--------------------------------------------------------

Unprepared for the slightly chilly weather, they found themselves seeking refuge in the bar lounge of a hotel, with a stage with a piano that lacked a performer. Instead of live music, soft jazz floated in the air through the speakers.

After ordering their respective drinks, they sat down in a table, sitting across from each other. Having talked about this and that, they were silent, looking around the lounge for distractions, for topics of conversations. Catherine failed to find anything interesting about their surroundings and she came back down to earth.

"This is nice."

"Are you going to comment about how we've never done this before?"

She smiled and shook her head at his smart comment.

"No, because we have."

"When we weren't on a case, Catherine." He replied and she was surprised at the fact that he knew. She didn't know if he had remembered or if he had just made a lucky guess.

"Then I guess we haven't done this in a while." She retorted, smiling sweetly. She could see that he melted into it, his eyes going out of focus for a brief second. Taking her eyes away from him, she closed her eyes, listening to the jazz piano riff that was now flowing through the speakers. She could feel his eyes on her but didn't hear his chair move. When she opened her eyes again, he was gone. Looking around, she found him on the stage, sitting in front of the piano, wiping his hands on his pants and wetting his lips. She looked at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. He put up his index finger, signaling to her that he had it under control. He winked at her and turned his attention to the piano. Touching the mic, he cleared his throat.

"Hi, everyone. I hope you bear with me through this song. Just thought I'd play it because there was no one up here…and…this is for you, Catherine."

She could hear the applause from the limited crowd that was present in the bar and she didn't know how to respond. She didn't recognize the man that was on stage; she didn't know Gil could play the piano. She hoped he wasn't embarrassing himself. If he could play the piano, she expected Beethoven, Bach, Mozart. Something Gil Grissom. She certainly hadn't expected jazz.

As his fingers slowly started to hit one key at a time, forming the first chord, he looked back at her, smiling. After the moment of pause, he turned his attention back to his fingers and the first notes of the song flowed out from the black grand piano. She recognized the song right away.

---------------------------------------

_They ask me how I knew_

_My true love was true_

_I, of course, replied_

_Something here inside, cannot be denied_

-------------------------------------

Although Gil did not sing, she knew the words were forming on his lips and on hers as well. For her ears, it was as if he was singing with his mellow voice, every word as clear as every note he was playing on the piano.

As clichéd as it was, his complexion and figure under the spotlight was like a mirage for Catherine. Her heart was straining to see her best friend on stage, playing this beautiful song for her and her only.

She wondered if there was a reason he chose this song. If he wanted her to think about the words.

--------------------------------------

_They said someday you'll find_

_All who love are blind_

_When your heart's on fire_

_You must realize_

_Smoke gets in your eyes_

_----------------------------------------_

She knew from experience that love was debilitating, in more ways than one.

Her marriage to Eddie that had felt more like an affair had been self-destructive, her eyes clouding her judgment and her passion confusing her reason. She had been blind to all his faults and that had cost her, she later realized. Her relationship with Gil had been similar but much gentler, much more supportive. He had been there for her, and she for him. Although before she left, they hadn't been on the best of terms. She had thought that the faults had gotten in their way and that had upset her again.

She didn't know if that was what was happening to her at this very moment. The 5'11" workaholic that she had observed years ago was changing before her very eyes.

---------------------------------------

_So I chaffed them and gaily laughed_

_To think they could doubt my love_

_Yet today, my love has flown away_

_I am without my love_

_----------------------------------------_

He looked towards her now, gauging her reaction. Seeing her look at him as if in a dream, he grinned his ear-to-ear trademark.

Realizing that he had just seen her look at him, in an utter daydream, she snapped out of it. She didn't want to think that she was making a fool of herself, something inappropriate for her age. She decided to relax, sinking back into the chair. She knew others were slowly moving along to the music and silently and privately, she felt proud. Proud of the fact that she could possibly call the charming man her own.

---------------------------------------

_Now my laughing friends deride_

_Tears I cannot hide_

_So I smile and say_

_When a lovely flame dies,_

_Smoke gets in your eyes._

_Smoke gets in your eyes._

_-----------------------------------------_

As the song slowly drew nearer to the end, she found herself letting her emotions overflow. Allowing her eyes to become clouded by tears, she smiled her own ear-to-ear. She knew he had seen her reaction out of the corner of his eye; his playing became more passionate, his movements more dramatic and his touches bolder. She watched as he closed his eyes and felt out the last notes of the song, an intricate and impressively quick riff decorating the beautifully subtle finish.

The crowd applauded when he drew his fingers away from the black and white keys and some shouted for an encore. Laughing, Gil shook his head and came off stage. She knew he felt a little shaky and nervous. When he sat back down at the table, he couldn't look at her, although she was smiling just for him. Reaching for her napkin, she wiped the sweat that formed on his forehead. He smiled nervously, wiping his hands on his slacks again.

"I didn't know you could play the piano." She started, wiping his forehead.

"I deduced that from your shocked expression. There are a lot of things you still don't know about me I guess." He replied, less nervous. "I'm not sure why I just did that but…I just felt I had to."

"Thank you. It was beautiful."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Falling back into a silence yet looking at each other, they finished their drinks slowly. Catherine didn't know how to tell him that she had appreciated it more than she let on and she knew that he didn't know how to express in words what he had just communicated with the notes of the song. When the band came back onto the stage and started to play, Gil stood up, extending his hand out to her.

"Dance with me?"

His loss of memory became more evident as his request sank in.

"Gil, I'm not exactly dressed for this."

"I don't care." He replied, taking her hand and drawing her to the dance floor. Gladly they were not the only ones and were joined by another older couple. Holding her right hand in his left and placing his right hand on her waist, he established a movement and a rhythm that she could easily fall into.

"How long has it been since we've danced, Catherine?" He asked, drawing her slightly closer with his question. She chuckled and replied, her voice low.

"It's only been a couple of weeks, actually."

"And?"

She looked up at him, trying to understand the point of his question.

"What do you mean?"

"And…how was I?" This was young Gil. No doubt.

"You were…" She stopped, contemplating the right word. Putting her lips to his right ear, she whispered. "…sexy." She felt his body shake with a chuckle and felt his cheek brush hers. Nudging her head with his own occasionally, they danced, their bodies close.

-------------------------------------------------------

When they were back outside, she shuddered from the sudden onset of the chill and she knew he was surprised as well. Knowing full well that he was a little disappointed at her underplayed reaction, she drew him into an embrace, putting her arms around his waist again. She could feel his smile as he put his arms around her once more. Drawing comfort, content and heat from each other once more, they called for a taxi.

"Gil, I want you to know how much I…"

"Appreciated that, I know." She looked up into his eyes as he finished another one of her sentences.

"Reading my mind."


	43. Chapter 42 :: I'm Just A Man

**Chapter 42:**** I'm Just a Man**

When they returned to the hospital, she realized that she was seeing a bit of the old Gil, that he was starting to come back at her with his old quips, the modes of expression that he often used. But he still couldn't remember why he was on the strip the day of the accident. Couldn't remember any of his cases or any of his history with her other than what she had told him and what had happened in the past few days.

After changing back into his hospital scrubs, he stepped back into bed and let the nurses rip them a new one. As they hooked him back up to the IV, he pretended to be completely sincere, listening and reacting to every word they said. He kindly said goodbye to them as they left and the minute they closed the door, he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Finally."

"They're only doing things that are good for you Gil."

"I can judge what's good for me and what's not good for me, thank you."

"Oh really? Then what's good for you now?"

"A giant reward for all the remembering I've done."

"Are you sure? How do you know that it isn't bad for you?"

"It probably is." He replied, jokingly. He watched her as she giggled. "I'm being serious though."

"Why do you want all these rewards? It almost makes it seem like you're remembering just to get the rewards. Not remembering so that you can get back to your life."

"How do you know it's not both?"

She laughed again, contemplating the request.

"What do you want?"

"Thrill me." He told her, closing his eyes and settling himself down in the bed.

She couldn't remember a time he had been so playful around her, a time when he had been so open and honest about his feelings, about his desires. She wondered if concussions could change personalities.

He opened one of his eyes to study her expression. She smiled at his gesture and stepped towards the bed.

"You do realize that if you get this reward now, that's it?"

"Yes, I do realize that. But it has to be worthwhile, Catherine. I can't make any promises that I'll appreciate it." He retorted and he simply received a slap on the arm in response.

"Excuse me?"

"May I request a kiss, madame?" He asked, slowly opening his eyes. She didn't know how moments like this, of absolute charm, blasted out at random points. He didn't seem like himself. It was almost as if someone else had taken Gil's body. But she found that she couldn't refuse him as she bent down. Her left elbow helping her stay up, Catherine bent down and stopped just before his lips.

Smiling in anticipation, Gil took her right hand with his left and brought it up to his heart.

"Feel that? You're making me nervous." He told her. When he saw that he had incited another smile in her, he closed the very narrow gap, slowly.

When his dry lips met hers, she drew in a surprised breath. Feeling his heartbeat with her right hand, she thought she was falling into a trance. The strength in her arms gave way and she found herself completely depending on him for support, causing her to lean further into his embrace. His right hand left his side and came up to cradle her face. He deepened the kiss, not against her will.

It was at this moment that she realized that she was falling in love with him, all over again. But she had no idea what he was thinking. Why he was doing all the things he was doing. But she herself was obliging him, going along with everything he was saying and doing. She didn't know what about him or about her it was that made her change.

The fact that he had lost his memory was doing nothing to change how she felt about him. Rather, it was only making what she felt stronger, amplifying every little thing that she felt for him in every part of her body. She realized that spending time with a Gil who wasn't held back by his private inhibitions was just what she had needed.

Falling in love again with his lower lip, she never heard the knocks on the door but realized the door had opened when Gil's lips stopped moving against hers.

"Catherine?"

When she moved herself off him and turned around, she found Ian at the door, his face showing signs of utter shock. She didn't know how to explain herself, how to explain in words what Ian had just witnessed.

"Ian…"

He turned around briskly and Catherine followed him out of the room. When she caught up with him and stopped him with a hand on his arm, he made her let go.

"So this is why you wanted me to leave? So that you could do whatever you wanted with him?"

"No, that's not it!"

"Then what was it that I saw? How are you going to deny the fact that you were kissing him?"

She couldn't say anything in reply and she knew that this angered Ian further. Ian's hand went up to massage his temples and she knew he was trying to calm himself.

"Do you love him, Catherine?"

"Stop asking me that question, Ian. I am sick and tired of you…"

"Then tell me why you were kissing him!"

"I kissed her." It was Gil, who was leaning onto the wall for support. "It's not her fault, I made her kiss me. You just walked in at the wrong time."

"Gil, stay out of this." Ian raised a hand towards Gil to stop him. But Gil pressed on.

"No. I realize that you must be Ian, her fiancé. I made her kiss me. It was not her will at all."

"I'm warning you Gil, stay out of this. I don't want to hear what you have to say."

"Why not, you haven't given me a chance to speak."

"Because I've already heard what you had to say when you were yourself." Ian replied, and Gil froze. Looking at Ian with confusion, Catherine piped up.

"What…you two talked?"

"Just before Gil got into the accident, we had a talk at the hotel lobby. I asked him if he loved you and he said…he said he didn't." Ian replied, looking straight into Catherine's eyes.

Although she hadn't expected anything from him, her heart fell, thudding in its cavity. She looked at Gil, who looked just as confused but frustrated. Like he wanted to say something but didn't know how to put it into words.

"So stop chasing after something that isn't there, Catherine. He never loved you but he won't even remember that now." Ian told her, his tone softening.

Falling into the chair nearest to her, Catherine sighed. She didn't know why this news was breaking her heart, moreso than the fact that she had to postpone the wedding. She didn't know why her heart almost wanted to tell Ian that he was wrong. That he must have heard wrong.

Should she leave Gil now? Should she let all the history that they had had be erased along with Gil's memory?

Caught up in her thoughts, she didn't even notice the nurse that came up to hand something to Gil. She didn't even see him freeze and slide down along the wall.

"Catherine, please. I need you."

She looked up to find Ian standing in front of her, his hand extended out to her.

"Come on, let me take you home."

"Wait…"

Both of their heads turned around to find Gil sitting on the ground, his hands gripping his head, his knuckles white. Catherine recognized the bowtie that now rested in his hand. Calming the heaves that were wracking his body and taking a deep breath, he stood up. She saw that his face was contorted in a kind of determination.

"You said you'd let me talk to her as a man."

She looked at Ian who looked as if he was just punched in the stomach, his look one of disbelief and utter shock. Stepping away dejectedly, he simply nodded and waved a hand to Gil. She tried to find a reasonable answer in Ian's eyes, something that would explain what was happening.

"Catherine, I love you."


	44. Chapter 43 : If It's the Last Thing I Do

**Chapter 43:**** If It's the Last Thing I Do**

"Mr. Grissom, we found this in your jacket pocket that you were wearing when you were hit. The paramedics just sent it up to us."

She put in his hand a small black bowtie. Smiling one last time, she took off down the hallway, walking away as if she had changed a man's life forever multiple times before this.

Suddenly it was as if he had been struck by thunder. After one blink of an eye, he was back, every little detail of his life flooding back into his head through an indeterminate channel. Almost literally, he saw his life flash before his eyes. He didn't realize his body was sliding down onto the floor but when he came to, his head felt like it was going to split open because of the pain. Gripping it with his free hand, Gil closed his eyes shut.

He remembered putting the bowtie in his jacket and taking off towards the Strip.

He remembered the way his breath condensed and lit up the air in front of him for a brief moment. The neon sky. The carols coming from the shops. He remembered seeing her eyes.

When he opened his eyes again, he could hear Ian trying to take her away. Before he knew it he had spoken.

"Wait…"

Fingering the bowtie in his hand, he stood, propping himself up against the wall. He knew from the look of fear in Ian's eyes that he realized that Gil had, in a sudden strike of luck, regained his memory.

"You said you'd let me talk to her as a man."

He didn't blame Ian for lying. If he were Ian, he knew he just might have done the same thing. Especially because it seemed as if he was never going to get his memory back. Watching her look to Ian for an answer, he let his heart speak. For once, he was glad that his head was throbbing with unbelievable pain.

"Catherine, I love you."

Hearing the words roll off his own tongue and knowing that this time, it wasn't to the cold Vegas air, he felt his body shudder in a brief release. He felt his heart empty itself of its burdens, his mind free from the thoughts that had bogged him down. He couldn't hear the whir of the hospital's air-conditioning, the opening and closing of other patients' doors, the beeping of the phone calls that the nurses had put on hold and the noise of the optimistic families who were congregating in the halls. The only thing he could hear was the blood rushing through his ear, his heartbeat projecting itself onto his eardrums.

He let his words echo, leaving them hanging in mid-air.

"With or without my memory, I…I love you."

He looked at Catherine, who simply sat there, looking at him like he was from another planet. As if he had appeared out of thin air. Her mouth agape, she looked like she was thinking but he wasn't sure.

"I…I don't expect you to pick one of us right now, as horrible as that sounds. I just…I just want you to know that…I can be ecstatic for you if you stay with him. And…"

Catherine stopped him with a hand.

"Gil, that's…that's enough." She asked, her tone obviously frustrated and overwhelmed.

Closing his eyes, Gil hand came up to his face to massage his temples and his eyes. He was prepared. Prepared to not say a word if she needed him to be quiet. Prepared to wait for her.

How long, he didn't know. He didn't care.

----------------------------------------------------------

"With or without my memory, I love you."

She heard the three words roll off of his tongue once more and her heart jumped. She almost felt sick because it was beating so fast. She felt like she was on overdrive, her senses overwhelming her mind and her thoughts. She didn't know what she was feeling or what she was supposed to think or say. Some corner of her heart told her that she was relieved, that the panic that had incited within her before were subsiding. But another part of her head told her that the situation wasn't getting much better.

She registered the fact that Gil was speaking again but her head was swimming with so much emotion, memories and rationalizations that she stopped him with her hand.

Or maybe she wasn't supposed to think.

What was she supposed to do? What did they expect her to do? Did they expect her to say, 'I choose you' and start a new life, just like that? She knew that she had committed a horrible crime, because one way or another she would leave a scar on one man's heart forever. She was actually led to believe that neither of them would love again.

Looking at her toes, she tried to think. She knew they believed that she was thinking, that she was somehow coming close to a decision. But she wasn't. She wasn't even getting anywhere near the realm of a decision. She didn't even know how to start choosing. She didn't know how she was supposed to make a choice. A choice between two different loves. Two different lifestyles.

She certainly didn't want to answer the phone that was now vibrating in her pocket. Fishing it out from her slacks, she saw Lindsey's name flash across the screen.

"Hello?"

"Mom?"

"Hi, Lindsey."

"Why haven't you been picking up your cell phone? I've been kind of worried."

"I know, honey, I'm sorry. I've just…been busy with trying to help Gil."

"Right…is he there right now? With you?"

"Um…actually now's not…really a good time. Can I call you back?"

"Why? What are you guys doing?"

"Nothing, it's…nothing like that."

"Is Ian there?"

"Yes, he is. I'll call you back later, okay?"

"Mom! Wait!"

"Lindsey, now is really not a good time…"

"Has Gil told you that he loves you?"

Catherine froze, the hand that was rubbing her forehead, descending slowly.

"He has, hasn't he? He's regained his memory. And Ian's there too."

"Lindsey…"

"It's your life, mom. That's why they're leaving it up to you. Because they want you to be in control. They want you to choose what happens to you. Don't you know that if you choose one of them, the other won't be vowing revenge? He'll be happy for you, whoever he is."

"Lindsey…"

"I hope you listen to your heart for once. I have faith in you, mom. You'll make the right choice."

And Lindsey hung up.

Feeling completely alone, she closed her phone. When she looked up, she realized that Gil had stepped back into the room and Ian had moved further along the hallway to leave her space. Looking from the door of the room to Ian's back, she fought the urge to break down and cry, again. She didn't know when she had become so vulnerable or when she had allowed weakness to creep back into her heart again. Up until now, she had faith in herself, believed that she was a strong woman, in control of her life. But when it came to men, she knew she had always made mistakes, blunders and errors that were often irretrievable. This time, she knew that her blunders had made mistakes out of the two men whom she loved. Or thought she loved.

Maybe Lindsey was right. Maybe she already knew the answer somewhere in her heart but she was too weak to break someone else's heart by making her choice.

She looked towards the door, trying to envision her past and present with Gil.

Seeing him at the restaurant in Seattle had suddenly made her feel as if her relationship with Ian had been something secret. Something that wasn't allowed. She had felt guilty for letting Gil see them together in such an intimate setting. When she heard him confess that he had missed her, that he had cried for her, she knew her heart had cried out for him and that she hadn't been able to deny her body's wishes to hold on tight. Spending the two days with him had reminded her that she had always felt bad for leaving Las Vegas. That somehow she had made the wrong decision. He reminded her of the reason that she left in the first place. The past few months had been the polar opposite to the year she had spent without his voice at her side, his reassuring touches and his concerned looks. She had felt safe and not alone. And she knew she was starting to fall in love with him the past few days. But she didn't know what he was thinking, why he was doing all the things he was doing and sending her signals that he was in love with her as well. She didn't know if he was genuine or only afraid of losing something that he felt he had had the rights to.

Turning her eyes away from the door, she looked at the slumped figure of Ian, standing against the wall down the hallway.

Her year with Ian had made her happy, no doubt. She had a job she loved and paid well at the same time. She and Lindsey were getting along much better and she knew that she had found a true confidante in Ian. He was someone who could be happy for her success and allow her to be her independent self. He was jealous but not possessive; he was passive but involved. But somewhere along the way, she knew he had reminded her of Gil and she knew that was the reason she had been intrigued. The reason she said yes to his request for a date. Every one of Ian's mannerisms had been familiar and she had felt comfortable in the relationship, like she wasn't risking anything. She realized that she hadn't thought much of any of these things when she was with him. She had thought that somehow, her feeling of security and comfort was a sign that he was the One. The man with whom she was meant to be. The man that would be at her side forever. Even now, she didn't doubt that if she married Ian, he would be at her side forever. She just didn't know if she could be at his.

She didn't know how long had passed but she could only guess it had been a very long time as she wiped her sweaty palms on her slacks and stood up. She walked down the hallway, not throwing a glance at the door she passed.


	45. Chapter 44 :: What Is There to Say?

**Chapter 44:**** What Is There to Say?**

Slowly and gently. No sudden movements. No jumping to conclusions.

He closed his eyes.

Listening to the IV fluid drip into the tube that was connected to his arm, Gil slowly let go of his thoughts. His fists unclenched, releasing the reins.

_Breathe in._

When a thought threatened to appear somewhere in the back of his foggy mind, he simply shook it away.

He wondered if this was what nirvana felt like.

_Breathe out._

His mind levitated. Started to fly, to a place without petty complications. The ones like unrequited love, hunger, desire, loneliness. His body sank further into the sheets that were as white as innocence, in hopes that he may draw some of its carelessness.

_Breathe in._

Vulnerability, please let me go. Confidence, grab my hand and pull me up from this fate that's drowning me.

He couldn't recognize the difference between what he was saying and what he was thinking. He couldn't tell if he was doing one or the other. For a second, he lost all intelligence.

_Breathe out._

Because his head knew that if he started thinking, if he started letting the ego take over again, he may not escape the pain that loomed in front of his eyes. The pain that the footsteps, becoming fainter and fainter, provided. Fresh out of the flaming oven.

He didn't know if his heart could survive. If it would want to beat again after being trampled on by the fading footsteps. It took every drop of blood and every inch of his muscle in his body to fight the tears that pushed his eyes. Although he had already become a hypocrite, he wanted to keep promises. At least the last one he thought would ever make. Should make. He would give her away. To the man that she was probably walking away with at this very moment.

She probably felt guilty. Felt sorry for him.

This was beginning to sound too painfully familiar. Her leaving him. Him devastated. Except this time, he wasn't sure if he would be able to recover.

_Breathe in._

But he knew he was a pile of empty promises and doubts. Questions of "what if" and "maybe". He realized that she had needed Ian's security, devotion, stability and Ian's vow. Vows still meant the truth, he supposed.

_Breathe out._

He tried not to become angry. Not to hate her for the affection that she ever showed him. The kisses that they had shared and the loss of feeling that had followed. Her weakness when she gave in to him. His selfish, animalistic desires. He knew he had lost the battle when he felt his hands bunching up the fabric underneath in his fists.

He tried to reason with himself. Try to calm himself down just the way her touch had.

Her touch.

He gritted his teeth.

---------------------------------------------------------

"Ian?"

Turning around, Ian looked into her eyes, the corners of his eyes moist. She knew her face fell again at the sight. Ian had never been someone who incited pity or sympathy. He had always been the perfect partner, the trophy husband. The one that everyone was jealous of. The one everyone looked up to.

He didn't need to say her name to acknowledge her. He simply looked at her, his eyes desperate for an answer. A smile was already forming at the corner of his lips. His optimistic lips.

"Catherine, I…I know I haven't told you this as often as I should but…I really do love you. With all my heart."

She sighed, smiling, tears threatening her eyes again.

"I know…I know…that's…that's why I'm here."

--------------------------------------------------------

_Breathe in. _

He remembered not remembering any of his past. He remembered the frustration when he thought he was realizing that Catherine was engaged for the first time again. He remembered the panic he felt when Ian told Catherine that Gil had said he wasn't in love with her, even without his memory. Somewhere in his mind, he wanted to tell Ian that he probably heard wrong. He wanted to tell Catherine that Ian was probably lying, but he just couldn't remember.

Because although he had just met her that day, he had already been in love with her from the moment she had said hello. It didn't matter if he was in love with her before the accident or if he wasn't. He fell in love with her all over again, even when his life had started again as a blank page.

_Breathe out._

He wanted to tell her that it didn't matter whether his memory was with him or not. Tell her that it was never a question of what if. That he had been in love with her from the moment they first met, both times.

---------------------------------------------------------------

The smile was now clearly forming on his lips, his teeth starting to show. When she shook her head, his face stopped in mid-motion. His mind, in mid-thought.

"I…I need you to…I need you to forgive me."

Ian stopped, mid-breath.

"Forgive you? For what happened in there? It doesn't matter now, Catherine. All I care about is the fact that you are here with me right now."

"No…there are some things that I need to tell you. I…"

"Catherine. I don't care what happened with you and him before today. I can already guess what you want to tell me. I already figured that you were with him after your bacherlorette party. I already figured that…the reason the you weren't answering your phone was because…you were with him."

Ian knew he had guessed right, when Catherine became silent. The only sounds that came from her were her breaths.

---------------------------------------------------------

_Breathe in._

He cursed himself for not telling her earlier when he had had the chance. Telling her the so many things he had wanted to tell her about how he felt for her when he was looking for her on the Strip. The fact that he had been in love with her for the twenty-odd years they had known each other.

That he was sorry for every lie he had ever told her. Including the fact that the first kiss hadn't meant anything.

That he regretted everything he had ever done to her and had not done to her although he should have.

That while he was alive, he couldn't let her go. Not while he was sane.

_Breathe out._

--------------------------------------------------------

"Honestly. I want you and I to start fresh. Right here, right now. Start anew."

"Ian…"

"Don't say that you don't deserve it because you do. I don't care about anything. I don't care about Gil or your history with him. I just…I need you to be my wife."

Catherine didn't know how she was supposed to go on, how she was supposed to continue talking to him. Her mind wavered, shaking as he uttered the last words.

"Ian, I wanted to tell you that…I need you to forgive me because I…because I need you to leave."

"Catherine…" Ian started but couldn't finish. She knew she was breaking his heart again because she knew he wanted to believe this was all a dream. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I'm not saying that I was never in love with you because I was. For the year and a half that we've been together, I was in love with you. I had very strong feelings for you, which is why I originally said yes to you when you wanted us to get engaged. But…I realized that the reason I had said yes to our first date and the reason I fell in love with you was because…everything about you reminded me of him."

She watched as Ian fell against the wall and slid down it, his hands coming up to grip his hands, just the way Gil had done. She followed, kneeling at his side.

"I know I'm being selfish, asking you to forgive me but…I don't think I could be happy if you didn't. But you don't have to. You can just…leave, always being angry with me. I just…I just want you to know that I…I will never stop being sorry that I didn't realize this earlier."

Holding Ian now, she prayed that he would have the strength to keep on living after her. That he would find someone worthy of him, someone who would love him for who he was rather than who he resembled. Sighing, Ian's trembling calmed down and shaking his head he stood up, taking Catherine with him.

"Any chance you might change your mind?" He asked, his eyes still moist from the tears he had shed just moments ago. Not being able to help herself, Catherine let the tears come.

"No, Ian, I'm sorry." She replied, trying to stifle her sobs. "I still love you but…not the way that you deserve. I really hope you don't think that you're a bad person because you're not. You're wonderful, you're almost too perfect."

"Just not for you." He commented, smiling bitterly. He sighed, nodding.

"Ian, will you ever forgive me?" Catherine asked, wiping away the tears that didn't seem to be close to stopping. She wondered how she would ever overcome this feeling of guilt that she felt in that moment. How she could ever go on to be happy when she knew she had damaged Ian's life so much. A man she had once loved and was going to be forever bound to. "Please?"

"I'll always love you, Catherine." Ian replied, extending his hand out to her, in a gesture of friendship. She took it and took him into her arms. Sighing, Ian accepted. "So are you going to go tell Gil you love him?"

"I…I don't know if I love him, Ian. With you, I was sure that…I would be happy with you but…there would always be a "what if" in the back of my mind and you know as well as I do that I can't live with regrets."

"Take your time. He'll wait."

-------------------------------------------------------

_Breathe in._

Unhooking the IV from his arm, he stood up. Frantically he looked for the clothes he had grabbed from the house earlier and changed in record time. He ran to swing the door open, only to find a surprised Catherine right in front of his nose.

_Breathe out._

----------------------------------------------------------------


	46. Chapter 45 : Fall Into Place Through Cha

**Chapter 45:**** Fall into Place Through Chaos**

"Hi."

That was all he could muster. His minds rank with thought, he was the most lost he had ever been in years. Perhaps the most confused he had ever been. Maybe his racing heart rate was contributing to the element of chaos.

"Hi."

"What…Where's Ian?"

Listening to his question, she shook his head, smiling bitterly.

"He's on his way back to the hotel."

"Um…" Gil lost his capacity for words. Again. "Are you going back with him? Have you come to say goodbye?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to get married?" He asked, his heart aching again. But it didn't register. He almost felt numb.

"No, Gil…I…I told Ian that it's over."

His heart stopped. For about three whole seconds, he didn't breathe, his heart didn't beat and he couldn't think. The word 'over' echoed throughout his skull, which felt empty at the moment.

"It's over?"

"Yeah…I…I love him but…not the way that I should. And not the way that he deserves." She replied, fidgeting with her hands. He took her arm and let her into the room, closing the door behind her. "It took that conversation for me to realize what I had been feeling. Gave me the courage."

"So what are you saying, Catherine?"

He thought she would have told him by now if she realized that she had been in love with him all along. Something was off.

"I'm going to go back to my house. I need…a couple of days to think. By myself."

He nodded. He had waited twenty-odd years. What was another couple of days?

"Okay."

Then he noticed the tear marks on her face and his heart broke for her again. She realized that it had hurt her to let Ian go. She had once been in love with him and he felt bad. He felt like a horrible person.

"Come here." He drew her into an embrace, his arms enveloping her form completely. She leaned her head on his chest, her arms going around his waist. "I should never have put you in that position, Catherine, I'm sorry."

She looked up at him, recognizing the line he had once said to her about ten years ago. She smiled.

"What position?"

Remembering their conversation in the diner, he looked into her eyes and smiled.

"Never doubt, never look back, right?" He asked and she sighed.

"I wish I could say that but…there are so many things that I should have done better and done differently. I guess age is really catching up with me." She snuggled back into his form.

"Don't think like that. You did your best. It's only hindsight that bites us in the behind afterwards. Thinking back, I bet there's no one who doesn't regret a single thing in his or her life. But it's the ones like you who can control it." He whispered, his voice low. "Besides, blame me. If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't have been this unhappy."

"No, Gil. I…I would have never been fully satisfied with my life had I not…cleared my doubts with you. There would have always been something in the corner of my mind."

He nodded, leaning his forehead on the crown of her head. Letting his eyes close shut, he wondered how he could possibly spend a few days without her.

"Promise me that you won't think about what this will do to anyone else. Just think about yourself for once."

He felt her nod against his head and he smiled. Drawing away, she smiled at him, appreciatively.

"Thank you."

"Thank _you_. For not hating me."

She shook her head, chuckling.

"I couldn't hate you. I mean…you told me you loved me, Gil." The look in her eye changed to uncertain again as she said the word 'love'.

Instead of saying a word, he drew her to him. He kissed her.

Although it had happened before, for Gil, it was as if they were kissing for the first time. Gentle, slow, nervous, hesitant and new. Something was different. The dynamic between them had changed. He didn't understand. He didn't try to understand as their lips moved in unison.

Drawing away, he saw her eyes flutter back open.

"See you soon, Catherine."

-------------------------------------------------------------

"So? Who did you choose?"

"I…I didn't choose, Lindsey. Not yet."

"What?! Did you end it with Ian?"

"Yes, I did."

"Did you tell Gil you loved him? That it was him you saw in Ian?"

Catherine's eyes widened at just how much Lindsey knew about her. Daughters.

"Um…how do you…"

"I'm not stupid, mom. Or blind for that matter."

"Um…I just need time to think. I'm going to go back to Seattle."

"Did you tell Gil?"

"Yeah…he…he said he understood."

"You need me to stay here."

"You don't have to do anything." She wondered how it seemed as if Lindsey was the mom.

"But you need to be alone. With your thoughts. Sort everything out."

"That's…that's the idea." Catherine replied, her hand going up to massage her head. She was getting another headache, driving back to the hotel.

"Not a problem. I'll…I'll stay with Uncle Gil."

"You will?"

"Well I figure, he's going to be spending a lot more time with us from now on. Might as well get to know him better."

Catherine chuckled.

"How are you so sure, Lindsey, when I'm still confused?"

"It's just a matter of time, mom. You'll see." She heard Lindsey giggle over the line and Catherine giggled with her. "See?"

"Okay, Lindsey. I'll…I'll see you soon. Call me, okay?"

"Sure. I love you."

"Love you too, baby."

Catherine hung up. A smile never left her face.


	47. Chapter 46 :: Daughters

**Chapter 46****: Daughters**

For a second, he thought she was Catherine, coming back from the airport to tell him that she couldn't leave.

But he was both relieved and a little disappointed to realize that it was Lindsey. He saw her reveal a bouquet of flowers and a gleaming smile. He couldn't help but smile back. Getting up from the bed, he walked over to her gingerly. They embraced.

"Hi, Uncle Gil."

"Hey, Lindsey."

When they drew away, he saw signs of tears in her eyes.

"You finally told her."

"I'm…I'm sorry I was a hypocrite. I…I probably should have listened to you before." He told her, sincerely apologizing. She shook her head.

"I understand. You don't have to defend yourself to me."

He recognized the line that Catherine had said to him in Seattle and he smiled, in reminiscence.

"I don't deserve you."

"Nothing new." She replied, grinning. "Get back on your bed. It'll probably let them release you a little earlier than planned."

Obeying her, he climbed back into the bed, groaning as his back hit the mattress.

"How are you, honey?"

"Better. Now that this whole situation has been sorted out." She smiled and put the bouquet of flowers on the bedside table. Sitting in the chair that Catherine had once sat in, she sighed. "Give her a little time, she'll come around."

"I certainly hope so." He replied, nodding.

"So…what are you going to do if she says that she loves you too?"

He realized he hadn't thought that far. He had been so caught up in just coming to terms with his feelings, he hadn't thought about the repercussions. The responsibilities and the commitment that followed. He gulped down the fear. He wouldn't let petty phobias get in his way.

"I…I haven't thought about it yet."

"Uncle Gil….I….I know that you love her, very much. But I…I can't forgive you if you happen to hurt her in any case."

"I wouldn't dream of it. I'll…I'll do whatever it takes. But…but I need her or you to tell me when I'm doing things wrong because…sometimes…men just don't understand. And…women don't get that either."

Lindsey shrugged, nodding slightly.

"I guess so."

He grinned, glad that she understood.

"Where are you staying?"

"I was staying at a friend's but…I told mom that I would stay with you and she seemed pretty okay with that."

"You really don't have to do that. I'm going to be released really soon. Maybe in two days, if all goes well."

"Then I'll come stay with you, anyway." She replied, drawing a raised eyebrow from Gil. "I figure you're going to be with us more in the future. Might as well get to know you better myself. Which I've never bothered to do with Ian, and…I guess that frightened me."

He laughed, nodding.

"I hope so, Lindsey. I hope so."

---------------------------------------------------------

Sitting down in her assigned seat on the plane to Seattle, Catherine wondered what Gil was doing. Although she felt guilty for thinking of Gil when sitting next to Ian on the plane, she couldn't help herself. If anyone asked, she could say that it was because he was with Lindsey and it was Lindsey whom she was thinking about.

She looked out the window at the exterior of McCarran and wondered if she was making the right decision. She couldn't tell if her decision to give it more thought was going to get her to where she was meant to be.

"Are you okay?" Ian asked, his look one of concern. She didn't know how he could still care about her or what she had done to deserve such a man's love. She nodded, smiling warmly. "Don't worry about him. He'll wait for you."

"What really did happen during your talk?" She asked, turning towards Ian now. "What did you guys talk about?"

"I wondered if you had talked to him about your decision to postpone the wedding and I just wanted to find out what he knew and…wanted to confirm or…erase my doubts about the two of you."

"And?"

"His look told me all I needed to know."

Ian's reply was not confusing; Catherine could picture Gil's fear-stricken face if Ian had mentioned anything about her whereabouts after the bachelorette party. She still felt slightly queasy at the thought of that night and the thought of Ian, sitting on the hotel bed alone.

"He really loves you, Catherine. The reason that I let him take you away from me was because I was afraid that he may just love you more than I do, which is almost impossible." He added, taking her hand in his. "I wanted him to go and talk to you. Although he had refused to come to terms with the fact that he just may be in love with you, I made him go find you. I wanted you to know what he was feeling for you, because…somewhere in my mind, I could tell that your history warranted such a talk."

"Ian…you…really?"

"You understand how difficult it must have been, right? I mean…even now I wonder if…sending him to find you was the wrong thing to do. When I heard that he got into the accident, I felt so guilty, I didn't know what to do with myself. That's partly how I could give you more space; because I needed to get away from the truth of it. I also wonder if sending him away to find you is … what made you leave me for him. I wonder if lying would have served my end of it in this case." He replied, squeezing her hand tighter. He shook his head. "But I know that it was the right thing to do."

Giving him a quick peck on his cheek, Catherine looked into his eyes, tears at her own.

"Ian…I can't believe you did that."

"I am…was your fiancé. It's my job to make sure that I do everything to guarantee your happiness."

Catherine realized that things were going to be okay between her and Ian and knew that she would cherish his friendship for years to come.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

After a moment of silence, Catherine felt she wanted to talk more.

"Ian…Can you ever forgive me?"

Ian didn't respond for a moment, lost in thought. Soon, he shook his head free of the thought that had been occupying him. He smiled, giving Catherine a peck on her forehead.

"Anything for you."

"No seriously. I want you to be able to forgive me."

"I do. I know it wasn't your fault."

"But it was! I was stupid in not being able to understand myself, I…"

"No, Catherine. You…you didn't deceive me on purpose. You didn't deceive me, period. It was just all…bad timing. If Gil had lost his memory sooner, then I wouldn't have to have been involved." He replied, holding her hand with both of his. "And besides, even if I wanted to, I couldn't hate you."

Catherine felt tears come to her eyes again. Wiping them away before they rolled down her cheeks, she sighed, shuddering just a little bit.

"If anything, just let me be your friend. A close friend. An open ear. A shoulder you can lean on. Someone you can call when you want to vent about a fight you just had with Gil. Someone whom you can name Godfather of your children. You don't have to name me Godfather, but you know what I mean." He told her, pushing up the bar that had been separating their two seats. Putting his arm around her, he drew her to him, allowing her to rest her head on the nape of his neck and his shoulder.

"I don't deserve you, Ian."

"I know." He replied, chuckling. "Gil doesn't know how lucky he is."

"Ian…I don't even know if I really do love Gil, so don't make it sound like I already chose him over you."

"You're just saying that because you don't want to break my heart and you don't want to seem hasty."

"No, Ian. I…I really don't know."

"Well I guess then this time that you're taking away from everything is well-chosen." He told her, rubbing her arm. "Don't start thinking or worrying already. Do that when you get home. For now, just…take your mind off of it."

She nodded in response, closing her eyes and sighing. She smelled Ian's faint cologne and she smiled in reminiscence.

Ian had been the perfect man. He could have easily been the One that she was looking for all her life. He definitely hadn't been like her other flings and she knew that with Ian, her life would have been great. She knew that when he proposed, she had been able to picture them living together, having a family. Ian's stability had been something that she had always been looking for, both professionally and emotionally. Ian had always been putting himself at avail for her and she knew that there was nothing more she could ever ask for. She knew that a part of her still loved the idea of him and didn't want to let go completely. But she didn't know if that was only because he measured up. Up to the standards that Catherine had subconsciously formed from knowing Gil.

"I told you. Stop thinking."

--------------------------------------------------

"Gil? Earth to Uncle Gil? Gil Grissom?"

He didn't realize that he had drifted off into his own world, wondering where Catherine was and what she was doing. Coming back down to Earth, he saw Lindsey, waving her hand in front of him. She had been gone for a day and he was already starting to worry.

"Sorry."

"I didn't think you'd want to stay in this place any longer than you had to. Come on! Let's go celebrate."

Taking his hand, Lindsey led him out of the hospital and into his car. She had somehow decided that she would drive and he was surprised she still remembered where he lived. Expertly finding the way to his townhouse, she drove, asking him questions as to what he wanted to do most when he was released. All he could think about was what he had talked about with Catherine, what he had thought he wanted to do with Catherine.

"I know I'm not exactly my mother, but we look alike."

He realized that she had read his mind, and he laughed.

"You can't do too much like…ride those roller-coasters you loved because the doctors still want you to take it easy. So…think of something creative."

"I want to cook."

Lindsey's silence confirmed that neither of them had expected his answer.

"You want to what?"

"Cook. For us. I haven't…I haven't done that in a while."

"But you … always used to cook for my mom. What…happened?"

Gil paused. That was a part of his past that seemed all too recent. A part of his past that still brought pains to his heart. But he was praying that they would be stepping past that. For some reason, he believed that Lindsey would understand more than Catherine would. For some reason, he wanted to tell her, but not Catherine.

"I don't know if I should tell you."

Lindsey huffed and fidgeted. He recognized the gesture and he smiled.

"Come on, Grissom! I promise I'll keep it a secret from mom."

He chuckled. Stepping into his kitchen, he wondered if he had anything to cook. Opening his fridge, he realized that his fridge had recently been stocked. He raised an eyebrow and looked to Lindsey for an explanation.

"You first." She told him, crossing her arms. He shook his head, laughing.

"You already know what I'm going to tell you. I don't need to confirm it just for your entertainment, Lindsey." He replied, starting to fish out food from various corners of the fridge. Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched Lindsey open her mouth and then shut it again, in thought.

"So what I'm thinking is probably right?"

"Honey, I know it's right." He told her, his head still in the fridge.

---------------------------------------------


	48. Chapter 47 :: My Romance

**Chapter 47:**** My Romance**

He watched her as she dug into her pasta, with an appetite that surprised him. Smiling, he thought he was becoming full just by watching Lindsey eat what he had just procured. When she realized he was watching her, she looked up and with an embarrassed smile, she wiped her mouth with her napkin.

"Sorry. I was hungry."

He smiled back, gesturing at her plate.

"Please. Pretend I'm not here."

He thought he finished his own plate pretty quickly. After his fork hit the plate for the last time, they sat in his kitchen silently for a couple of minutes, both pondering the delicious meal they shared. Gil was glad Lindsey looked quite content with herself and him, for cooking the pasta.

"Thank you."

Surprisingly, it was Gil who started the conversation this time. Lindsey, looking confused, raised an eyebrow. Just as Catherine would have in the situation.

"For doing this. For trying to make me feel better by being with me." He replied, to her silent question. He watched her smile and nod in appreciation.

"I'm the daughter. It's in the job description."

"Which part?" He asked, deciding to challenge her. She narrowed her eyes at him, smiling slightly.

"The part that says that the daughter needs to make her own decisions about the man that the mother may or may not love." She replied, smartly. This time, it was his turn to smile and nod in appreciation. "I hope you don't think that she ran away."

"I know that. She left you here. I'm basically holding you hostage." He joked, drawing a giggle from Lindsey. "You're so much like your mom, it's almost as if she was here."

"Well then I guess me being here is actually doing you some good."

"Of course. Never doubt that." Gil replied, as he stood up to grab both of their plates. Lindsey sat back and watched him put the dishes in the dishwasher. He prepared some hot water and made tea. When he turned around, she was cradling her face in her hands, studying him.

"So tell me everything."

Gil chuckled, coming back to sit at the table. After handing her a cup of tea, he sat down and crossed his legs, pondering his next words.

"Define everything."

"You. The woman that my mom used to be. The kind of rapport that you two had."

"When does this _everything_ start?"

"From the very beginning."

He chuckled again as he shook his head. He looked up to the ceiling.

"I'm not sure if I can remember that far back. I'm old, if you hadn't noticed."

"You know, I had no idea. You're old? That's out of the blue." She retorted, drawing yet another chuckle from him. "Stop chuckling like the old man that you are and tell me everything."

This time, he laughed and she laughed with him. Nodding, he took a sip of his tea.

"I wouldn't know where to begin."

"The very very beginning. Well...a little background just before the very beginning would be nice."

"Well…you see, I had just been promoted to a CSI Level One from being one of the trainees at the lab. I was finally allowed to go out in the field and solve my own cases, sometimes even flying solo. It was a thrilling time." He started, his face obviously lighting up.

"I can see that." She told him and received a dirty look in return. Smiling innocently, she gestured for him to continue.

"I even remember the date. May 27th, 1988. A call came in for a suspicious circumstance at the French Palace."

"Where my mom worked way back when."

He nodded and took another sip of his tea. He suddenly thought of Heather.

"I went over there with a detective, whose name was Jimmy Tadero. He knew his way around the place and introduced me to a couple of people. I was interviewing the caller when…when your mom took the stage."

"Love at first sight, right?" She asked, winking. He smiled in return.

"Well, knowing me at the time…I would have defined it as more of…a very fascinating specimen." He replied with a twinkle in his eyes. Lindsey giggled. "She was and probably still is the greatest distraction that I've ever known."

"This is starting to get interesting, but my back is complaining. Can we take this somewhere more comfortable?"

"Go sit down on the sofa. I'll bring you the tea."

They moved to the living room and Lindsey fell into the comforting couch. She sighed in satisfaction and Gil joined her at the other end of the couch.

"So?"

"Well, I…pretty much delayed the interviews deliberately, so that I could possibly make an excuse to talk to her after her act was done. Successfully, too." He replied, making Lindsey giggle again.

"You are such a dork."

"I know. But…what can I do, right?"

"I guess. Continue."

"Well, when she came down from stage, Jimmy – bless his soul – called her over to us and introduced me."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"_It's nice to see you Jimmy." _

_She kisses him on the cheek and he wet his lips as he watched Jimmy smile in appreciation. Then she looks at him and back at Jimmy._

"_This is Gil Grissom. Fresh from the Crime Lab." Jimmy could have made better impressions. But Gil extended his hand out to her anyway. She seemed surprised by his gesture but took his hand gladly, giving it a firm shake._

"_Nice to meet you." He gathered up enough courage to cough out the words._

"_Same."_

"_Gil, this is Catherine Willows. Probably the greatest dancer that ever walked through those stage doors."_

"_Jimmy, you are no good for my ego." Catherine replied and sent a wink in Gil's way. _

_He never realized that his heart could stop so abruptly. _

_-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

"You didn't have the courage to ask her for her number?"

"Well, the time in the diner was just our second meeting, I couldn't do that!"

"But you…" Lindsey stopped and sighed, frustrated. "I know this is in the past, but oh my god, Grissom!"

"I know, I know. I'm a coward in my own right."

Lindsey was now lying on the couch, her feet on his lap.

"Ok. Then what?"

"Well, I closed the case and thankfully, Jimmy suggested that we head to the Palace to unwind a little bit. We headed over there when Catherine's shift was in full swing – as I found out – and we had a couple of drinks. We watched Catherine dance," he started but was interrupted by Lindsey.

"Probably with your jaw halfway to the floor."

"Hey. I am pretty discreet."

"Right. Discreet must be what they called obvious back then."

He laughed and hit her feet, in mock hate. She giggled to herself.

"As I was saying. When she came down, she joined us at our table and we got to talking."

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_Jimmy excused himself and left the table, heading for the men's room. _

"_So, is it just that I've never noticed you or is it just that you and I are meeting more often recently?"_

"_I've never really been around in this part of town before." He replied, shyly, to his resentment. He took a sip of his drink, hoping it would loosen his demeanor. _

"_I see."_

"_Where did you learn to dance like that?" He asked, looking at her. She looked surprised again, at his question. "Why does that question surprise you?"_

"_I…I just…Men don't usually ask a question so…sincerely. As if you're really genuinely interested in where my skills came from."_

"_It's not 'as if.' I really am interested. Where did you learn?" He asked, looking at her. "I'm serious."_

"_Oh. Um." She started, but she turned her attention to her fidgeting fingers. "I…I did some ballet when I was little."_

"_Okay. Was that so hard?" He asked. He knew the alcohol had taken effect. _

"_I guess not." She replied, throwing him another smile and stopping his heart again. Not wanting to waste their moment alone, Gil started the conversation again. _

"_Hey, I've…I know I have no right to ask you a question like this but…" He faltered, looking at his own fingers. _

"_What is it?"_

"_Are you…are you with anybody?" He didn't know what part of his body had the guts to come up with that question. When he looked up at her from his corner, she looked pleased, almost flattered. _

"_Are you asking me if I have a boyfriend?"_

"_I…I…I don't know, I guess." He replied, stuttering and making a fool of himself. Then, he heard her giggle for the first time. _

"_Well, it's kind of complicated but…as of this moment, no."_

"_Oh. It's complicated, huh?"_

"_Don't worry about it." She replied, taking another sip of her own drink. Jimmy had the worst timing. _

"_I miss a punchline?"_

"_Yeah." She replied, looking at Gil again. _

_The three talked about nothing in particular. Well…mostly Jimmy and Catherine. Gil sat back, observing them and their conversation. He envied Jimmy. _

"_Well, thank you for the drink, Jimmy. I should get going." She stood up, grabbing her purse. _

"_Actually, I think I'll head home as well." Gil joined in, surprising himself with his voice. Jimmy nodded and they headed out of the club together._

_As Jimmy rummaged his jacket for his keys, Gil felt her hand slip in his for a brief second, leaving behind a piece of paper. He thought bugs were crawling up his arm._

"_I'll see you strapping gentlemen soon." _

_Then she left. Just as abruptly and curiously as she had come._

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

"Tell me you called her."

"Well, I did…eventually."

"…Grissom. When is eventually?"

"About…a week later."

"A WEEK?" Lindsey asked, sitting up.

"Hey, it's in the past, okay? Don't get so frustrated."

She gave him a dirty look and went back to her position. Huffing, she crossed her arms.

"No wonder she ended up with my dad. It was your fault all along."

He shook his head, smiling bitterly. Maybe it was. Maybe if he had made his move sooner, if he had just had the courage to call her up sooner and do something about his feelings. Act on them, for instance.

"Maybe. But then you wouldn't exist."

"Hm. I guess that wasn't so bad."

"Exactly."

"Why did you call her anyway?"

He sighed. He knew she wouldn't like this.

"I…called her because of a case."

Lindsey became silent and all he heard was a sigh.

"My God, Grissom."

"I know, I know. I was stupid. I was a coward, I was chicken shit, shy." He replied, hanging his head in mock shame. Lindsey did not look impressed. "Sorry."

"And what did my mom say?"

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_She walked through the door and not taking her eyes off his, walked gallantly to the table he was sitting at. He smiled when she moved into the booth. _

"_Hi." He offered and she simply nodded._

"_So am I really here to talk about the case?" She asked, in between placing orders for coffee with sugar. _

"_Well…I remembered that you…you expressed an interest in what we did when you were talking to Jimmy."_

_There was that look of utter shock again. Her jaws actually stayed open this time. _

"_You…you remember _that_?"_

"_I…I thought it was an important detail." He replied, innocently. He looked at her frowning eyes for a moment and clenched his fists, gathering up any kind of confidence he had left. "I remember other things too, of course. Like…your outfit."_

_She giggled. His confidence somehow skyrocketed._

"_Really?"_

"_Yeah. And…I asked you to come here so that maybe…you could help me?" He asked, a hint of excitement in his eyes. He knew she hadn't missed it. She grinned in return. "I'm asking you to be my…consultant, of sorts."_

_She looked down at her coffee for a while and then smiling and shaking her head, she looked back at him. _

"_When do I start?"_

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

"Then…one thing led to another, we became really good friends and…she actually wanted to pursue it."

"That's how she became a CSI. You." Lindsey sat up, still leaning against the arm of the sofa. "And all that time, nothing…happened?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"Why not?"

"Your mom was already dating Eddie. That's who the "complicated" was." He replied, somewhat still bitter about things. Lindsey let out another sigh and hit Grissom on the arm. "What was that for?"

"You being stupid. And too good to my mom."

He smiled in return.

"I guess it was all in good faith, then."


	49. Chapter 48 :: I Just Called to Say I Lov

**Chapter 48:**** I Just Called To Say I Love You**

After sharing his memories with Lindsey, Gil was exhausted. More mentally than physically. Lindsey was proving to be just as much of a handful as her mom had ever been for him. When he expressed his unwillingness to comply to her orders, she agreed to stop interrogating him for more details and go to sleep. When he came out of the shower, he could overhear Lindsey talking on the phone. He didn't want to eavesdrop, but this was Catherine. There wasn't a moment he wanted to miss.

"Today was great. He told me all the stories about you two."

A pause.

"I know. He actually seemed to remember them really well. You've got a stalker on your hands, mom."

Gil chuckled at that.

"Yeah. He cooked this…amazing pasta. You probably know it."

A smile.

"No kidding. I definitely want him around the house."

He stifled his laugh.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop pressuring you. How are things going on that end, anyway?"

He stopped in his tracks himself, his heart speeding up.

"Oh. Well…how much longer, do you think?"

He sighed.

"Right. Yeah, I guess I can understand that."

She sighed, this time.

"I'll hold him off for now. Do you want to talk to him? Give him a message?"

He took this as his cue, and walked out of the room in his pajamas. He looked at Lindsey, who looked back at him with surprised eyes.

"He actually just came out of the shower. Here." Lindsey practically forced the phone into his hands. She mouthed 'Talk!' and he put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"I…I kind of told her I didn't have anything to say but…" Her voice was just enough to put a smile on his face. He knew Lindsey approved of his reaction, when she grinned herself.

"That's okay. I understand. She practically forced this phone into my hands." Lindsey threw him a glare. "I mean…"

"You're okay, Gil. I know what she's doing."

"How are you?" He asked. He never made small talk.

"I'm…I'm enjoying this time."

"That's good. I know you needed it." He replied and he could hear her sigh in appreciation. "Seriously. Don't worry about the two of us. We'll be fine on our own. She's…she's a handful, just like you were, let me tell you."

"She's doing a good job of taking your mind off things, huh?"

"Well…certain things. Like…work. But…not other things." He knew she understood when she chuckled. "Hey, listen, Cath. I…I want you to know that…I needed this space just as much you did. So don't feel guilty."

He heard her pause, thinking about her next words.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

He paused too, smiling in reminiscence.

"Yeah." She giggled. And he knew she remembered too. "But in all seriousness. I…I really did need this space, this time. To reorganize my thoughts…be less emotional and less impulsive. Regroup entirely."

"Thanks. I…I appreciate that."

"Well, you should…probably get some sleep. Rest will do you wonders."

"Gil…since when were you this direct and caring about me?" She asked, a smile evident in her voice. He stuttered.

"I…uh…I've always been thinking these thoughts. I guess…I just never told you."

"Right. Right."

They both paused for a minute. Gil took the chance to watch Lindsey stand up and head to the washroom with her things. When he heard the door close, he resumed the conversation.

"Lindsey's getting ready to sleep, so…"

"Oh okay. Tell her I love her and…that I'm sorry for doing this."

"I think Lindsey understands more than I do."

"She's…she's unbelievable, sometimes."

"For me, it's…almost all the time." He replied, making Catherine giggle again. He smiled in reminiscence. "Anything for me?" He asked, jokingly.

"Well…I'm sure Lindsey has you under control." She joked back. "But…I…I want you to know that…I really do appreciate this."

"No need, no need." He heard her trembling sigh and he heard her move.

"Thanks, Gil. I…I'm really glad you don't hate me."

"How can I hate you when I…I…you know." He fumbled the last part of that sentence.

"Yeah. That's how I know."

"Right." He replied, and another silence fell on them. "I shouldn't keep you any longer. I'm not being very exciting anyway."

"Okay. Good night." She replied, a smile obvious in her voice.

"Night, Catherine."

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

She hung up the phone, her hands still trembling.

She sighed when she heard it click, relaxing into the couch. She looked around her empty home, remembering that he had been here not so long ago. She looked at the wall of DVDs, and spotted _A Perfect World_ and she chuckled to herself. Shaking her head, she headed to the kitchen.

Everything reminded her of him.

She tried to forget that he was out there somewhere throughout the whole day, but she couldn't. She tried to forgive herself for what she did to Ian, but she couldn't quite do that either. Ian had called earlier, to make sure that she had all she needed. She almost suspected that he was trying to get back into her good books, trying to change her mind.

She wasn't sure anymore.

Making her vanilla nutmeg tea, she thought about what Gil had said to her on the phone. How he had sounded almost enthusiastic, almost too happy to hear her voice on the phone. She also thought about what Lindsey was trying to get at, and she tried to understand why Lindsey was doing this. She wondered if Lindsey knew more about Gil's mind than she did, and she realized that it was probably true. Something about the fact that Lindsey volunteered to spend time with him and had ended up enjoying herself that day, was strange. Strange in a good way.

'_I definitely want him around the house.'_

She didn't know if that was genuine, if that was really heartfelt. But she knew that Lindsey wouldn't just say things like that if she didn't mean them. She knew that Lindsey had tried to pass it off as a passing comment, something referring to his culinary skills, something resembling a joke. But she knew Lindsey better than that. Lindsey had meant much more than just wanting him around the house for the pasta. She knew that Lindsey had given her seal of approval. She also thought about how Lindsey had gotten him to start talking about his past. His past with herself. She wondered if Eddie's name had ever been mentioned and how Lindsey had reacted to it.

She guessed that she probably blamed Gil for Eddie. For her marriage with Eddie. She guessed that Gil probably replied by saying that Lindsey wouldn't exist if Eddie hadn't happened. She could imagine Lindsey nodding her head in serious thought, and she smiled.

Catherine knew that if she had left Gil and found any other man, Lindsey would never be fully happy with her choice. Never fully satisfied. Catherine knew that like her mother, Lindsey probably compared any other man with Gil. And she knew that no one probably stood a chance.

The more she thought, the closer she was getting to one question that she couldn't bring herself to answer.

Why wasn't she running to him?

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

"_Catherine?"_

_Her jacket was soaked. Lindsey's hair was soaked and the little girl's face was smeared with tears._

_Taking hold of Lindsey's hand first, Gil led them into his house._

_Catherine was eternally grateful for the fact that he didn't say a word to her until Lindsey was safely tucked in the guest bed and until they were sure that she was sound asleep._

"_Thanks…for putting her to bed."_

"_Why aren't you leaving him?" _

_She trembled and sighed again. She wanted to start crying. She knew Gil was angry at her but not because he thought she did something wrong. Well…maybe that too._

"_I…I can't afford to have a divorce with Eddie when Lindsey's this young, Gil."_

"_Don't blame it on Lindsey."_

"_I'm not blaming it on her, Gil. This is really what I think!"_

"_Then can you tell me that you're not in love with him?"_

_She was more frightened by the fact that he wasn't yelling. That he wasn't reprimanding her. He looked genuinely…sad, was the only word she could find._

"_I…I haven't made a decision on that yet."_

"_How can you love him when…when he hits you, Catherine?" He asked, his eyes full of…something resembling pain. Sympathy._

_She didn't have an answer. She simply put her head in her hands and sighed, feeling her tears rush towards her eyes. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know how she should even start to explain herself to him. _

_Reading her mind, he simply took her in his arms._

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

They had been through a lot. Through hell and fire, she thought.

Her bond with any other man, including Ian, seemed trivial compared to what she had shared with Gil. No one would understand the history of her relationship with life as well as he did. No one would remember the little details, let alone be in love with them even after knowing them. Her pet peeves, her moments of embarrassment, her smeared eye-liner, her breakdowns. He had been through them with her, without asking questions or asking for anything in return.

And she had left that. For a job that she needed. For the life that she thought she was missing out on. But she had done so without thinking about how much it would have hurt him. How betrayed he would have felt.

She had to consciously stop herself from despising her judgment. From despising herself.

She wondered how he was still willing to take her back. After all the hard times, her betrayal and even her engagement to a man to whom he had never even been introduced. His commitment started to scare her. The fact that he was devoted to her started to frighten her. Enough to run away again.

"_With or without my memory, I love you."_

No one had ever told her that.

But then again, she had never been through such a drama with anyone before.

She wondered if there was any meaning to all that happened. If there really was some sort of sign that she was supposed to be recognizing. Whoever was watching over her, was probably frustrated and furious with her. She shrugged her shoulders and slipped into bed.

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

"So, what did she say?"

"She wanted me to tell you that she loved you and that she was sorry for doing this. Again."

"The same old. Didn't need to tell me that for me to know what she said." Lindsey replied, plopping herself down on the couch again. "I feel so refreshed, it's great."

"Me too. I think I still smell a little bit like the hospital."

"Yuck."

They both laughed and fell into a comfortable silence.

"Did she have a message for you?"

"You know, I asked the same question."

"And?"

"She just said she appreciates all that I'm doing."

"That's disappointing."

"I know, right?" He asked, surprising himself. "Let's go to bed."

"Sure, Uncle Gil!" She replied, feigning childhood again. He laughed and shook his head as they both stood up. After showing her the guest bedroom, they said their goodnights.

Opening the door to his bedroom, he realized that the bed was _still_ unmade. He suddenly frowned, the images from that night coming back to him. He was glad he had taken a cold shower.

Slipping back into the covers, he sighed. Instead of thinking about her, he fell asleep trying to think about how his investment in an expensive mattress had been a good idea.


	50. Chapter 49 :: Bold As Love

**Chapter 49****: Bold As Love**

_**Four days later**_

Lindsey now understood, after all these years, why her mom had had so many breakfasts at Grissom's place. As the hot cheese blended with the delicious eggs in her mouth, she couldn't help it as a sigh escaped her content lips. Although this would be the fifth day that she was spending at Grissom's and the fourth time he was cooking her breakfast, she still felt as if she was eating an omelet for the first time.

"Oh wow."

"Thanks." He replied, eating a forkful himself. Smiling, he made quick work of his omelets and Lindsey did the same. After the meal, the two simply sat on the couch, lazily watching TV. Then the cell phone rang again.

"Hello?" Lindsey smiled. That could only mean one thing. Gil smiled too.

"Hi mom." She threw him a wink. He took the signal and stood up, grabbing the plates and heading back into the kitchen.

"We're good. We only woke up a little while ago actually….He just made me breakfast. I can understand why you were over at his place for breakfast so often. I just can't get enough of those omelets."

He could hear the laughter over the phone. The distinctive giggle. His heart strained. Preoccupied with his reactions, he missed the rest of the conversation.

"Ok. Call again soon."

Lindsey hung up and came back to the kitchen counter, placing herself into a stool.

"She is going jogging. Clear her head, I guess."

"Of course."

They stayed in silence while he finished putting the dishes in the washer.

"When do you think she'll…decide to put an end to this?" Lindsey asked, joining him in the kitchen. "It has been four days."

"I've given up trying to predict your mother, Lindsey. But she'll take as long as she needs. This is the last thing that she needs to rush herself for." He replied, closing the dishwasher. He turned to Lindsey with a slight frown. "But I'm not sure how long I should wait."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure when I should make the judgment that she simply isn't going to come around." He added, his voice quieter. He looked back at Lindsey full force, with a bitter and contemplative look in his eyes. Lindsey simply stared. Maybe there was more to this than she thought.

"You don't think she'll…"

"I'm not quite sure if she'll be ready to break my heart twice."

Silence ensued, and Lindsey settled into a chair; her knees felt weak. She frowned at the hardwood floor, obviously deep in thought. The atmosphere had done a quick turn-around from innocent banter to serious contemplation. Gil sighed.

"You didn't think it would be this complicated."

"No, I really didn't. I guess…I'm still more of a child than I want to admit."

"It's not about knowing anything about love but…my knowledge is the kind that simply comes from knowing your mother. And knowing the history of our relationship and what it means to the both of us."

"So wait…are you saying…that you'd let her go again? Without even trying to change her mind?"

This time, it was Gil's turn to turn to silence. His expression changed, to one of slight surprise.

"Even last time, it was Ian who had to turn you around. It was the urgency of the situation…it wasn't…it wasn't you." Lindsey added, clearly starting to get a clearer picture of what she was going to say. "So when she doesn't…contact you, you're just going to sit here and assume that she has come to that decision and…that's it?"

Lindsey was getting more worked up and Gil could sense that she was becoming more frustrated with him. He bit his lower lip.

"I can't believe you, Grissom. After all this…you…you still don't know what it is that my mom might want."

He looked at her, quizzically.

"What your mom wants?"

"She wants you to do something about it, Grissom. She can't take any more of your passive-aggressive crap. She needs consistency, you know that better than anyone else."

He closed his mouth, looking to the floor. It was Lindsey's turn to sigh.

"I guess I'm still more ignorant than I want to admit." He replied, fidgeting with his fingers.

"You want my two cents?"

"Please." He looked up, into Lindsey's eyes. Lindsey was surprised by the amount of bittersweet angst that she could see. Something out of a sentimental scene in a romantic comedy.

"I think she knows right now, but I think she's too scared to do something about it."

"Knows what?"

"That she loves you." Lindsey retorted, silencing Gil once again. "I think she's waiting for you to provoke her somehow. Waiting for you to make the first move. She doesn't want to just call you up one day and say, 'I've made up my mind, Gil. I love you.' She's waiting for a sign, Grissom. She's probably convinced herself that if you're meant to be together, she'll get some divine intervention."

"I guess my knowledge about your mom is worthless by this point."

"Pretty much." Lindsey replied, throwing a small smile his way. "Do you see what I mean?"

"Inevitably." He stated, looking at his hands again. Clenching his jaw, he spoke up. "What should I do?"

"That's up to you now. I feel like…I've intervened too much. Without me, I don't think your relationship would even be here."

"You're too right."

"So I want you to do something for once. And she needs you to show her that you've changed. That loving her actually meant something to you. Still does."

Gil now looked off into the distance that was his far wall. Trying to bore a hole in it by staring, he was still. Lindsey knew he was contemplating, that he was searching for an answer inside of him. She watched as he bit his lower lip again and his eyes became unsettled and anxious. She knew his mind was jumping everywhere, just as his eyes were, without a safe place to settle. She knew he was having a raging debate inside himself.

"I'm…I'm going to take a walk." He piped up, his voice slightly hoarse. Lindsey nodded and headed to the living room and turned on the TV. She watched him grab his jacket and walk out the front door, his form slumped. It was unlike him and that was Lindsey's favorite part.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Closing the front door of the townhouse building, he buttoned up his jacket, fighting the onslaught of a draft of cold air. Inhaling a large pocket of the brisk winter, he put his right foot forward. Falling into a comfortable rhythm, he turned left on the street. Thinking that it may have a therapeutic effect, he decided to make the Strip his destination once again. Although he knew that it would take him at least half an hour to forty minutes to reach Las Vegas Boulevard, he kept on, his hands searching and finding the warmth of his pockets.

Once he charted his course, his thoughts wandered to other dreams. He wondered if she had gotten back from her run, if Seattle was as dry and cold as Vegas was at the moment and if she felt refreshed. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he wanted to imagine himself in her body and wanted to feel the sensations that he imagined she would be feeling at that moment in time. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself becoming disappointed at the fact that he hadn't transported to the steps to Catherine's home. Las Vegas had all but her.

As thoughts of the beautiful mahogany home ran through his head, Gil fell into the pool of imagination that he had left aside a long time ago. He imagined his life with and without her, his mind in peace and in pieces, his home full and empty, his heart racing and breaking, his thoughts content and meaningless and his world completed and depleted. For the time that he waded in his imagination, he was a series of contradictions, even to himself.

'_Thinking's what got us here in the first place.'_

People just didn't understand how difficult it would be for someone like him to stop thinking. To simply abandon intelligence and follow intuition was harder than Ian had seemingly made it sound. No matter how much Gil regretted his current predicament, he wasn't sure if he was ready to change the one thing that had always defined him: rationale.

Just like a fatal earthquake, she was shaking him. From the tips of his toes to the top of his head.

Before Gil could realize how many thoughts and distractions had passed through his head, he was stepping onto the Strip once more.

He didn't remember the last time he was on the Strip during the day. The sky was a gloomy gray, threatening to unleash rain once more. His eyes weren't used to the lack of neon lights along the Vegas mecca lane and he frowned, struggling to make out all the hotels in their daytime glories. Looking towards the left, he walked toward the Bellagio fountain.

It was relatively deserted that day and Gil could only guess that the weather wasn't exactly helping the usually tourist-ridden street. He saw a few families here and there, many couples lingering in some places because they were too occupied with each other to attempt to go anywhere else and the ones that worked in the giant organism that was the Strip. When he reached the fountain, he waited for yet another epiphany but the only thing he saw was his forlorn reflection in the water. His thoughts returned to the psychological battle that was being waged inside his head.

Leaning against the metal railing, he closed his eyes once again; the only thing he was sensing was the cold air biting his cheeks, the railing digging into his back and the sounds of cars racing by him. Surprisingly more successfully than he had expected, he stopped thinking. And when he did, there was only one word that came to his mind. Only because his mind realized that it was the one thing that he was lacking.

_Guts._

The betting instinct. The rush that had been at arm's length whenever he considered, yet turned down, risking. Risking the things he valued for the one card. The ace, the final 10 card to complete the full house.

The queen of hearts.

The chance that he had never taken. The dream of a prize that he hadn't reaped. A part of him had always regretted not taking that window of opportunity that the universe, like Ian, had fought to give him, but his ego had always stopped him when the exact same circumstances presented themselves. His relationships had been no exceptions.

Opening his eyes, he came to terms with the possibility that life probably wasn't as serious as he was making it out to be. Tragedies came and went, just as triumphs happened and were forgotten. So what if he was to end up alone for the rest of his life? He could simply take comfort in the fact that wonderful things had happened to him and that he had known the best of feelings that a man could possibly feel. Perhaps now was his turn to spin the wheel, his chance to buy the lottery ticket that presented the possibility of completing his life. In more ways than one.

It was tempting and in one moment, he knew he had been won over.

_All in._

Then, he heard the voice. The voice of logic he had always offered others. It was telling him that this was the one decision that mattered the most. This was a decision that involved the woman that would either make or break him. He shouldn't take it lightly. He shouldn't rush into things just because he felt like a coward. He shouldn't choose this moment to suddenly become spontaneous.

That he shouldn't do what he was considering doing.

He found himself smiling bittersweetly and looking at the sky. Squinting to make out the forms of clouds, he watched the clouds move above him. As a raindrop hit his forehead, he shook his head.

"Not this time, buddy. Not this time."

Pushing himself off the railing and the burdens of his reason, he called for a cab.


	51. Chapter 50 : When You Say Nothing At All

**Author's Note**: _Hey everyone, it's Gravey here. I just wanted to let all of you know that this is the second last chapter, so one more and then it's the epilogue (which I have yet to finish). Sorry it took me so long to update, I know some of you have been getting fed up with my procrastination. I've had this finished for a while but I just didn't get the chance to work on the epilogue. But I'm getting one recently since I'm given some time to relax for summer now. Thanks for staying with it and I'll attach another note soon!_

**Chapter 50****: When You Say Nothing At All**

"He's just out on a walk. I'm not sure when he'll be back."

Catherine closed her eyes briefly and sighed. It had taken quite a bit of courage for her to ask Lindsey if she could talk to Gil for a minute. To be told that he wasn't available wasn't exactly what she had in mind, but she waved the thought away.

"Okay. I'll just call some other time."

"Do you want me to pass on a message?"

Catherine didn't like the fact that Lindsey sounded hopeful. Too hopeful.

"No, that's all right. It's nothing pressing. Don't worry."

"Oh. Okay." There was the disappointment.

"So things are good?"

"Yes, mom. You called earlier today and I told you the exact same thing." Then the frustration.

"I know, but I just wanted to make sure."

"You just needed an excuse to talk to Grissom." Lindsey retorted. Catherine felt a smile pass by her lips, almost unnoticed.

"Lindsey…"

"Ok. But…I just want to know how you're doing with all that. We're starting to get worried. It has been five days."

"I know. I really…believe me, I'm…I'm aware of what I'm doing to you guys."

"Are you aware of what is happening in your heart?" Lindsey surprised her again with her ability with words. Catherine was left thoughtless and speechless.

"Uh…no…not really."

"Well…what are you, waiting for a sign?"

Catherine had, in fact, been waiting for some divine signal that she should be with Gil and that she should venture into a new realm in their relationship. That something more than friendship between them was what they had been meant to do. But she wondered that if it had been meant to happen, why didn't it twenty-odd years ago? Why now? Why all this ordeal? She kept persuading herself one way and the other; she just couldn't bring herself to come to a conclusion.

"I suppose I am."

"Mom, that's just…"

"I know, Lindsey. I understand that it's stupid but…I don't…I can't come to a conclusion just yet. You have no idea what kind of a raging debate there is in my head."

"You're not supposed to think about this stuff too hard."

"The last time I didn't think and just went with my heart, I ended up staying with your dad. And now you understand that none of that was good for who I was."

Lindsey fell silent. Catherine felt bad for having to use Eddie as an example but it was the only way she could explain herself.

"All right…I'm just telling you that…Gil is becoming more and more convinced that you aren't ever going to come back and that this is going to be it."

Catherine didn't know what to say. For some reason, her body was affected before her mind was, as she felt a shiver go down her back. Shaking her head, she gathered her thoughts.

"I'm not quite sure what I can say to you that…will change anything. I…I haven't really made any progress, though it is almost the only thing I think about all day."

"I understand. I…I'll just wait."

"I'm really sorry, Lindsey, I really…"

"Don't be sorry to me. I'm fine. Apologize to Grissom." And then Lindsey hung up.

As she pulled the phone away from her ear, she stared at the phone, wondering if there was something that she just wasn't doing right and if she was, what was she doing wrong?

She looked through her phonebook to find his cell phone number that she had never brought herself to erase, even when she had been furious with him. Pushing the SEND button, she slowly brought the phone to her ear once again.

"Uh…Hello?" He knew it was her. Caller ID.

"Hey, Gil. It's Catherine."

"I…I'm really glad you called, Cath."

"I know…I'm…I just called to say that I'm really sorry for what I'm doing to you and to Lindsey. I'm…I'm just not in a good place, right now."

"Not in a good place? In what sense?" He had paused before. He sounded disappointed because before, he sounded as if he had something to tell her. Something exciting.

"I guess I'm just not mentally ready to make a big decision like this…or even a commitment for that matter." She replied and she didn't hear anything from him for a while except for a hum.

"Listen, Catherine…you know you can just tell me if…if you're trying to say what I think you might be trying to say."

"And what is that?" She asked, afraid of what his answer might be. She just needed to buy time to tell him to figure out how she was going to tell him that she wasn't trying to say that at all.

"That you don't think you can be with me."

"Gil, that's…that's not what I'm trying to say."

"I think that…a part of you just…doesn't want the burden of having me wait on you and…especially since Lindsey is here, you feel pressured. I'll just send Lindsey back home so that everything is back to normal and no one will be waiting on you. Then maybe you really can tell me what you're thinking."

She didn't know what to say. She didn't quite know what would be good for her. But she thought he would know.

"I don't know if I can but I'll try to understand the decision that you've made, Catherine."

"Wait, Gil…What decision?"

"The one that you made by not making one at all."

She couldn't say anything because that's not what she had expected out of this call. She just expected them to say a couple of endearing phrases, reassuring remarks and just end the call. Something about his phrase rang true and it sounded as if he was repeating what someone else had once told him. Perhaps Sara.

She felt herself panic, as her heartbeat sped up.

"I will send Lindsey home promptly, so don't worry. And…I don't know how to say this."

"What?" Her voice was weak. She didn't think he could hear her because she barely heard herself.

"I'm sorry that we never...or that you didn't feel that we…could work out. But…I don't regret any of what happened. Except…maybe…except for the fact that I never confessed to you before you left. Maybe if I had done that…if I had…maybe things would have been different. Maybe things would have been as good as it ever gets."

She didn't know how many more times she could be left speechless. Her voice left her, along with her ability to think coherently. All she heard was a weak _bye_ and a click. The phone still clinging to her ear, she stared off into space. There was a feeling in her somewhere that just felt her heart drop. She was becoming anxious as if she was supposed to be somewhere but she wasn't. As if she had just realized she had lost something important, like her keys or her wallet. As if she had just remembered a promise that she had made two weeks ago and realized that she never kept it.

Her hand closed the phone before her mind could register what her body was doing and she later found herself on the sofa, in the exact same position she had been a couple of hours ago.

Was she really making a decision? Was it that she was simply too afraid to admit the fact that she would never make a decision? She had been thinking that it would come when it was meant to come but now she realized that it was allocating the blame and the responsibility to coincidences, to divine intervention. Maybe it was because she didn't want to make a decision.

She didn't want to be blamed for making the wrong decision.

Without knowing what she was doing, she opened the door and the cold winter breeze hit her. Exhaling a cloud of vapor, she looked out into her neighborhood, her eyes moving around frantically for a sign. A sign that whatever she had been depending on had not just left her alone. Her eyes watering from the cold, she gulped down a sob. She didn't know why emotion was gripping her all of a sudden.

Forcing herself to close the door, she regained her breath. Her mind drawing yet another blank, she slumped back onto the couch. She couldn't understand anything that she was doing or feeling.

Before she could even consider anything remotely related to the passage of time, the sky outside had turned its back on her. The only reason she even came to the realization was the barrage of complaints coming from her neck and her back.

She found herself splayed over her couch, staring at the patterns on the ceiling, in a position that wasn't particularly comfortable. Feeling every inch of her body come to life very slowly, she didn't even have the energy or the willpower to stretch, stand up and turn on the lights inside the house. Her head was gently throbbing, from the length period of inactivity and she could feel it struggle to form a coherent thought. Something that would be of use to her current situation. She realized that even her head didn't have an answer when it erupted in a headache.

After what felt like ten minutes, she pushed herself off the sofa and headed into the bedroom where she simply crawled under the covers and fell into a deep slumber.


	52. Chapter 51:My Life Would Suck Without Yo

**Chapter 51:**** My Life Would Suck Without You**

"Grissom told me what happened."

Sighing into the phone, Catherine pulled herself into a sitting position. She was still in bed, after about a full day's worth of tossing and turning. Lindsey had decided to call again.

"He did?"

"He explained that…you had decided you couldn't do it. He just dropped me off at the airport."

"Lindsey, I never made a decision."

The only thing she heard was a sigh from the other end.

"I…I just don't know how to say when I've decided one way or another. Everything's just confusing for me…I …"

"How do you feel now that he thinks he's understood what you feel?"

Catherine closed her eyes as the critical words hit her again. Lindsey had seen right through her and she didn't know how someone else could read her so easily when she found that she couldn't even read herself. Read the signs that her heart was sending her brain. How was she to recognize some sign that a divine being was sending her if she couldn't even understand herself?

"I'm just…My mind keeps drawing a blank. I…" Her heart was speeding up again. "My heart speeds up, and some part of me tells me that I should go look for the very thing that I believe I've lost."

"Then what's stopping you?!"

"I'm too afraid to make the decision, Lindsey! It's not easy to just stop and say 'Hey, I think I'm ready to spend the rest of my life with someone.'"

Lindsey fell silent.

"I have to go, Lindsey."

Catherine hung up and felt tears come to her eyes again.

She didn't know when the last time was that she had cried over someone, let alone someone that professed to love her so. She just let the sobs wrack her form, as she gave in to the waves of helplessness that were emanating from the very core of her being. She felt her hands inadvertently grip the covers of her bed but didn't realize that her knuckles were going white.

She didn't realize how long she had stayed that way but she had to unclench her hands because the lack of blood flow was starting to immobilize her fingers. When she had finished with the stream of tears that now adorned her blankets with a dark stain, she didn't know why she was crying. Why she felt so forsaken, alone and helpless. With a simple phone call she could change her situation. She could be with the man that she thought she was in love with. What _was_ stopping her? Her pride? Doubts?

She realized that it was probably her previous scars, the past memories of her failure. What if she made Gil into another one of her colossal failures of relationships? She cherished his friendship far too much to let something like a faulty decision ruin what they had, what they had shared over the years. She thought that if she had jumped into a life with him, only to end up falling out, she didn't know if she could live with herself.

Live without him.

She found some strength in her to move herself to the bathroom where she took a very hot shower. After freshening up, she headed into her closet, turning on the lights that threatened the survival of her eyes. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the navy blue blob that was his sweatpants. She had forgot to wash it after he had used it but she picked it up now, almost as if she was picking up a piece of evidence. She desperately needed clues; clues to the mystery that would change her life forever.

She remembered how his mere presence had lightened her up, how even after a year of hostility and no communication, they had fallen right back into each other's arms and comfortably enough. They had continued on with their lives as if nothing had happened, with their conversations as if they had never stopped talking to each other.

Before she knew it, she had resorted to sitting on the floor, holding the sweatpants to her form as if they were some family heirloom, awfully dear to her heart. As she became aware of the surroundings around her, she realized how lonely she felt and how everything she was doing seemed so foolish. How it all appeared so fruitless.

How she missed him so much that it strained her heart just to smell a trace of his scent on the navy blue fabric.

That moment, she knew.

She couldn't imagine being with anyone else for the rest of her days. She knew that she would be able to be at his side until she no longer could. Somewhere in her heart, she knew that he would stay at hers.

She realized that she could never go on living without knowing what her life could be with him as her partner for life.

She knew he completed her, that he was the better parts to her worse and that he would always accept her for all her shortcomings and successes. That he would embrace her for who she was rather than who she tried to be sometimes. That though she always had her issues, he covered them up with faults of his own. He had always been the one to see _her_, rather than the façade that she often created for the rest of the world to see. Although she knew he had always judged her, she knew that it was because he was concerned. The truth was, he never wanted her to look bad in anyone's eyes.

Because he couldn't understand how anyone could think badly of her. Because he wanted to make sure that everyone could see the woman that he claimed to see. That he claimed to love with all his being.

Although her head always told her head to doubt what he claimed, her eyes could always see that he meant what he said and that he said what he felt: she completed him too.

In too many ways for them to be apart.

Softly laughing to herself in tears, Catherine buried her face into the sweatpants and let out a couple of heaving sighs.

And now that man was about to walk away. Perhaps already had.

She didn't even understand what was happening when she ran out into the living room, the empty space echoing with the sound of the rain hitting the roof. Even the weather wasn't helping the lively chaos that now filled her mind. Frantically looking for her purse, she refused to think. Think about the possible consequences that this trip of hers would have. She'd have to explain to Lindsey later but all of her concerns were now thrown on the backburner. Her entire body was being fueled with adrenaline. Her mind reeling from the excitement that her body was claiming to experience. After grabbing her phone, she headed out the front door.

Squinting from the fact that her clothes were now being attacked by the onslaught of water from the skies, she reached her car. After safely getting into the driver's seat, she decided to check her purse. She cursed herself as she realized that she had forgotten her wallet in the house. Hating the fact that her forgetfulness was putting a dampener on the rush of it all, she reopened the car door and sprinted towards the house.

She rummaged her jacket pocket for keys and fumbled with it as she tried to get the door open again, the keys slippery from the rain.

"Catherine?"

The keys dropped to the ground. They left her numb hands that were now debilitated as the thought process for its purpose was otherwise preoccupied. She couldn't believe what was happening as she turned around slowly towards the voice that had shouted her name through the deluge.

He stood there, perfectly upright and still. Although the rain blurred her vision, she could make out that he was simply looking at her, his form heaving with calmed, Grissom breaths.

She knew that she had left her house on a trip to find him, but she hadn't planned out what she was going to say when she showed up at his doorstep once more. What she would tell him. How she would tell him about the thoughts that had led to her coming back to him. But she wasn't prepared for how dumbstruck she felt at this moment. She realized that Gil felt much the same when he just stood there, looking like he was at a loss for words for the first time in his life.

Maybe it was the familiar sound of the rain hitting the pavement, the soft hum of the running engine or the sudden halt of her heartbeat threatening to tear her eardrums.

Maybe they had both understood what it was that the other had set out to do. That they had both left their houses, hoping that the other would confess their hearts out at the doorstep.

Or maybe they both realized that after the twenty-odd years that they had grown older together always knowing that someone had their backs, the two decades that they had faced had gotten them so far that words would no longer carry them.

For whatever god-forsaken reason, they met each other halfway as they sprinted towards one another. To meet in a furious embrace. The most passionate that either one of them had ever known.

It was reminiscent of their first encounter at the hospital but this time even a hint of hesitation was nowhere to be found. They stayed that way under the rain, touching and tasting each other and the raindrops that were soaking every inch of both of them. Even the miniscule gap between their heated bodies.

In the midst of the flurry of hands and contented sighs, Catherine found what she wanted to say.

"I think I love you."

Gil stopped mid-action to stare at her. She didn't think she had ever seen him look better, beads of rain dropping from his shortly-cut hair and condensing in his trimmed beard. He looked overwhelmed.

"You think?"

She could only throw out a couple of laughs in response.

"Yeah. I think so." She breathed out. "I think…I think I may just want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"I _guess_ that's good enough for me." He said and he closed the gap once again, and without any word of complaint from Catherine.

It seemed that Gil couldn't get enough of her and she couldn't get close enough. Gripping and fastening the other to themselves, they reveled in the rare sensation of utter completion.

The impossible feeling that maybe life was better than fantasy could ever be.


	53. Epilogue

**Epilogue:**** Signed, sealed, delivered. (I'm Yours!)**

There are times in life when you realize you've made a mistake and when you do, you wish you could do anything to push time back just a little bit and you want to believe that it could be possible. Because you know you would have done something differently. Done something a little better than what you just did.

On the other hand, there are the other times in life when you feel it in your heart that you've done the right thing. That for once, you didn't fool yourself into thinking that you could be something else other than yourself. The times when self-expression made its presence clear were the times that you never regretted. The times when you knew what it felt to be someone on the verge of ecstasy.

As Gil opened his eyes, the bright sunlight and the softness of the covers underneath his waking body were the signs that told him yesterday had been one of those rare times. Yesterday had been _the_ moment that his life would always thank him for.

As though she read his mind, she stirred, groaning softly and shifting slightly.

"Hey." His coarse voice piped up loud enough to make sure that a slight jolt coursed through her body. She turned around to face him. Caressing his hair and then his beard, she kissed him softly and he felt his smile being mirrored on her own lips. When she drew away, he opened her eyes just in time to see her eyelids flutter open and her eyes focus on his own. "That was the best wake-up I've ever had."

She giggled softly, feeling the bed vibrate gently underneath her.

"Well you're going to get a lot more of it." She replied, whispering into his ear. His hands moved to draw her closer to him while she gave very weak grunts of protest. They stayed that way silently for a short while, pretending as if either of them would actually be able to fall back to sleep. Their hearts still fluttering from the yet unfamiliar touch, they knew their bodies were on edge whether they liked it or not. Trying to fight the nervousness, Gil drew her even closer, rolling her on top of him.

"Never forget to remind me that I may be one of the luckiest men in the world." He said and he was met with a reply of giggles. "I'm utterly serious, Catherine. Not very many men get to have the woman that he loves for the rest of his life."

She looked up at him with her tousled hair and her genuine smile. She simply shifted up and kissed him again, letting it last a few moments longer than the previous one.

"That's almost exactly what I had in mind." He replied and he couldn't help but grin as he felt his body shake with her laughter. Gently putting his hands on her bare waist, he kissed the top of her head. "When I'm with you, I have to pinch myself every two seconds because I'm afraid it's a dream."

She looked at him squarely and he gulped, intimidated by her soul-piercing gaze. Her baby blue eyes were melting every inch of his brain and his body.

"This isn't one of your lonely night dreams, Gil. It's not one of the poems that you love to quote every so often. It's not a cheesy romance novel. It's not a TV show or a romantic-comedy. This is _us._ And you'd better realize that what _we_ have, is real." She told him, completing each sentence with a kiss on different parts of his chest. "Oh and by the way, how did you end up at my house after that phone call? I thought you were set on the fact that I wouldn't return your feelings."

"Ah, that's a story and another."

------------------------------------

"…_as good as it ever gets. Bye."_

_As he hung up the phone, he slowed to a crawl as he exited the arrival terminal of the Seattle airport. He was going to tell her that he was here. That he was coming to her for good._

_He fell into the nearest bench because his head was spinning too much for him to stand upright. His surprise plan had been thrown off-course, thwarted. Hell, completely erased off the face of the map. What would he do now? Should he simply head back to Las Vegas in defeat and really send a disappointed Lindsey back in his place? _

_Would he retreat into his shell once more, this time never to resurface?_

_The voice of his reason was tempting him. This wasn't right. Catherine obviously made a decision by not saying anything to him. She didn't even try to deny anything he said to her on the phone. It would be completely foolish and shameful for him to show up at her doorstep and beg for her to take him into her life. His rationale wouldn't and couldn't withstand such humiliation. _

_Humiliation?_

_Was pursuing the woman who would define your life once and for all, humiliation? _

_Didn't someone say that love is like a spiral staircase? You keep climbing the stairs, not knowing where it ends but only that it leads somewhere and that somewhere is a better and higher place than where you are? You don't know why but you find yourself climbing the steps one by one, not even caring if it does indeed lead somewhere?_

_If she said no, would it humiliate him? Destroy his ego?_

_If she said no, he wouldn't have a life for which he would need to defend his ego. _

_If she said no, none of it would matter. Absolutely nothing. _

_He was all-in. All or nothing. _

_He slowly stood up again, balancing himself on his suitcase. As he slowly walked towards the exit doors, his step found more purpose with every step. _

_Despite all the complaints from his rationale, there was a part of him that believed that she just might be waiting for him. That she would wake him up with a kiss the next morning._

_------------------------------------_

"That last bit is only in hindsight."

"No, it really isn't. I had a feeling." He replied, with a boyish grin. He could see that she subtly melted into his charm.

After a few moments of silence, he turned them around so that she was pinned underneath him. She threw him her challenging, seductive grin and he could only reply with a harsh sigh.

"I'm so grateful to you, Catherine."

"I was expecting you to say something a little different, but that'll do, I guess." She teased back.

"I mean it. I…I have so many flaws, so many deficiencies…I don't know what kind of karma I had in my previous life but I must have been pretty close to Mother Theresa."

"Gil…"

"I…Thank you so much. Thank you so, _so_ much for thinking that you could possibly love a man like me."

His sincerity was bringing tears to her eyes. She simply chuckled them away, as she caressed his face. His eyes were reflecting the red raw emotion and affection that he was feeling for her and her heart strained at the sight.

"I love you, Gil. I'll love you for the rest of my days. Nothing less." She managed to mutter, before he closed the gap between their lips.

There are times in life when you know that the very thing you're about to do will change your life forever. Life as you knew it for all the moments previous. Marriages, births, deaths, milestones, kisses, a walk on the beach, a conversation, a phone call, a movie. You can never predict which street corner you're going to meet your new life, what time, what day, in what weather, in what bookstore or in which coincidence. The end of life as you knew it may be sitting in the airplane seat in front of you, standing behind you in the line for a non-fat latte or even a couple of doors down the hallway in which you've been living for the past two years. However, when it does come, you just know that you'll be a different person. That you've shed your old feathers and morphed into a new you that may be unfamiliar even to yourself.

That sunny January morning was one of those moments for both of them.

Leaving behind the immeasurable memories and their lives as they each knew it, they ventured, arriving at a shared sentiment and a life to which, previously, they would have given credibility on the basis that it was fantastical, that it was someone's wildest dream.

The new life that they met simultaneously _was_ the dream and neither of them would have accepted anything less.


End file.
